Lance Hammer’s Searing ‘Queen at Sea’ Confronts Dementia and Consent With Empathy and Honesty

Tony Sokol

Somber from the outset, writer-director Lance Hammer’s “Queen at Sea” is a devastatingly honest look at late-stage dementia, caregiving, and sexual consent. Anna Calder-Marshall gives an uncompromising performance as Leslie, who is advancing through late-stage dementia. Juliette Binoche plays her daughter Amanda, a recently divorced academic with a teenage daughter, Sara (Florence Hunt).  Amanda relocates from Newcastle to London to be closer to her mother and stepfather, Martin (Tom Courtenay). The familiarity brings worsening confusion.

“Queen at Sea” is a study of contrasts. The opening scene shows the backs of an elderly couple helping each other up concrete stairs, one with a cane and the other gripping the handrail. It is Leslie and Martin and they obviously rely on each other for the simplest tasks. It is sweet. The very next scene finds Amanda walking in on the couple having sex. She is shocked, and knows her mother is not in a state to give meaningful content. We learn this is not the first time this happened because Amanda reminds Martin he promised not to do it again. She calls the police.

When Martin is prevented from seeing Leslie, she falls apart. The forced rape examination is harrowing, especially seen through Leslie’s eyes. Frantic at both the humiliation and desperate confusion, Leslie is sent to an institutionalized senior facility. Martin does not agree with any of this. He and Leslie have been married for 19 years, and he is a loving enough caregiver to do proper research. From everything he’s read, marital sex comforts dementia sufferers as much as any other familiar needs or desires they can’t express. Martin obviously loves Leslie, and believes their connection keeps her alive. Martin sees Amanda’s rush to put his wife in a home as a calculated move to separate them.

“Queen at Sea” questions everything, and every answer leads to more impossible decisions. Martin is investigated prolifically as an abuser, but defends sexual comfort as a therapeutic necessity. The nursing home doesn’t appear to offer any protection, but comes up with reasonable explanations. Everything is ambiguous because the situation is captured in an agonizingly naturalistic way. It feels very real, and too intimate.

As a younger woman, Leslie was recognized as a talented painter. Amanda now sees her deteriorating and with no advocate for herself. Binoche captures the torn daughter wanting to protect her mother, layering the responsibilities with guilt, frustration, and anger. Amanda blames Martin, partly because he is her stepfather, not father. The relationship is increasingly built on pain. As Leslie’s condition escalates, the dementia develops and the consequences of Amanda’s decisions grow.

Courtenay brings a nuanced take to an aggrieved husband. Martin is gentle, firm, protective, and struggling. Courtenay delivers some of the movie’s most devastating scenes through natural frailty. He is extremely gentle and patient with Leslie, and downright obstinate with Amanda, still without raising his voice. Calder-Marshall does not look like she is giving a performance. Leslie is completely realized. Calder-Marshall allows overriding fear to dissolve into blankness, yet flashes moments of complete lucidity which resonate starkly. Leslie sparks when painting at the facility. Courtenay and Calder-Marshall commit completely to the tenderness and weakness inherent in their situation.

Cinematographer Adolpho Veloso captures the interior shots of the Martin and Leslie’s home in natural light, toning it a cold and distant gray. Nothing is black or white, and the camera remains fixed. But when Sarah (Florence Hunt) discovers her first love with James (Cody Molko), the colors are brighter, the camera moves. The emerging relationship balances the film, but isn’t given enough time to fully develop. 

“Queen at Sea” is an unsentimental story told in a realistically informed way. The film intimately approaches delicate topics with a legal, moral and ethical ambiguity. It is unadorned, clinical, and naturalistic. Hammer documents advancing dementia coldly, and allows the resolutely unselfconscious performances to infuse empathy. The camera never looks away from the most unsettling realities, but the focus consistently spotlights subtle humanity. It is hard to watch and completely relatable.

“Queen at Sea” releases Nov. 6 in select theaters.