I’ve been meaning to review Anne of the Thousand Days for quite a while, but I struggled to find the time – until now! After rewatching this film, I have to say, while I loved the film the first time, this viewing completely captured my heart. In my opinion, this is the best portrayal of Anne Boleyn ever brought to life in a film. No film has ever done Anne as much justice as this one. Without further ado, let’s get into my review. This goes without saying, but this review will contain spoilers.
Anne of the Thousand Days excels in many ways, but one of its strongest elements is its framing. The film begins and ends with the same pivotal moment: Cromwell informing Henry VIII that all six accused, including Anne Boleyn, have been found guilty. As Cromwell presses Henry to sign Anne’s death warrant, we see the King hesitate, torn between lingering feelings for Anne and the weight of condemning his wife. Cromwell, like a devil on Henry’s shoulder, manipulates him by playing on his insecurities, reminding Henry of Anne’s supposed crimes and declaring she has brought him nothing but “a useless daughter and a dead son.”
The film then rewinds to recount Henry and Anne’s tumultuous relationship, eventually returning to this decisive moment when Henry, after much deliberation, signs the warrant.
This use of reverse chronology captures the characters brilliantly. We see Henry’s conflicted emotions, Cromwell’s calculated ambition, and the manipulation that eventually leads to Anne’s tragic fate. While the characterisation is strong across the board, it’s Anne’s portrayal that truly stands out; her fiery spirit is conveyed with incredible depth. Moments like her defiance towards Wolsey – “Although I am only a girl, you will know you have an enemy” – and her humility towards him later as she stands against his arrest, arguing that “He is old and sick, and I’m past hating him,” showcase Anne’s growth and complexity. This sense of growth feels natural, never rushed or forced – something which few other films about Anne Boleyn have managed to achieve as effectively.
Another of the film’s standout features is its use of parallels. Early on, we see Katherine storm out after witnessing Henry’s infatuation with Anne, and Henry instructs the musicians to continue playing despite the absence of the Queen. Later, Anne finds herself in a similar situation to Katherine, storming out after seeing Henry captivated by Jane Seymour. Once again, Henry disregards the feelings of his wife and orders the musicians to continue. These moments not only highlight how quickly circumstances can change, but they also showcase a sobering truth: Henry’s treatment of Anne mirrored his treatment of Katherine.
My favourite parallel lies between Anne’s Coronation and her execution. During her Coronation, Henry presents Anne with “the flowers of May” for good luck.
Later on, as she walks towards her death, Anne pauses to notice the blooming flowers, remarking that “the month is May.” The juxtaposition is striking – how quickly one’s fate can change, from the joy of being crowned queen to the despair of facing death. This parallel, the idea of something being ripped away from oneself so fast, is made even more poignant by Henry’s cruel declaration: “It’s your misfortune that you love me now that I no longer love you.”
Moving on, I particularly loved how the film portrayed Anne’s relationship with Henry Percy. Their romance had a sense of naïvety about it which really sold the idea that Anne truly did love Percy (which I believe she did). One of my favourite scenes of the film is when Wolsey is under instruction from the King to separate Anne and Percy, so Wolsey orders Percy not to touch Anne, only for her to defy him by kissing Percy right in front of him. To me, this scene perfectly encapsulates Anne’s bold, rebellious spirit.
That said, this subplot is not without its historical inaccuracies. There’s no evidence to suggest the King intervened in their relationship for personal reasons; Henry likely had no romantic interest in Anne during the time of her courtship with Percy. Similarly, the film’s suggestion that Henry was already bored of Katherine, referring to her as his “Spanish cow” and longing to “hunt in the beautiful country of Kent,” is somewhat problematic. Anne and Percy’s courtship occurred between 1523-1524, long before Henry had set his sights on Anne.
A scene which positively stood out to me was the birth of Elizabeth. The film captured Anne’s initial disappointment at birthing a daughter, but it also beautifully portrayed Anne’s deep love for Elizabeth once she had calmed down – a love we know Anne truly had.
Similarly, the scene where Anne miscarries the baby referred to as her “saviour” was remarkably done. The emotion was palpable despite the fact that the film didn’t linger too long on the scene. It was one of those scenes where less turned out to be more. On the same note, I also appreciated, despite its historical inaccuracy, the fact that Anne had the opportunity to say goodbye to Elizabeth before she was escorted to the Tower. Anne wasn’t given this luxury in reality, so it was rather healing to see it played out in film.
An aspect I struggled with was the depiction of Thomas Boleyn. The film portrays him as a father who needed his daughters to lie with the King in order to advance his own position at court. Historically, Thomas was already a trusted and successful diplomat and courtier long before Henry took notice of Mary, despite what the film suggests. However, I did enjoy the moments where Thomas challenged Henry, such as when he responds to Henry’s declaration – “What I do is God’s will” – with the sharp retort, “But Your Majesty realises that this might seem an excuse to do as you please?”
Lines like these capture the audacity and intelligence of the Boleyns. Anne’s fiery wit, in particular, shines through her quips, such as her snarky response to Henry dedicating a song to her and asking how she would respond, to which she replied, “I would ask him how his wife liked it.”
Another minor issue, though more of an irk, is the suggestion that Henry fathered Mary Boleyn’s child, which lacks historical evidence. While it works as a plot device to emphasise Anne’s fear of following her sister’s fate, the film could have achieved this without such a glaring inaccuracy. Similarly, Henry’s claim that he “never married Katherine, England married Spain” oversimplifies their early relationship. Historically, Henry and Katherine enjoyed a happy marriage at first, with Katherine serving as both a trusted confidant and beloved partner. By omitting this dynamic, the film sacrifices some of Henry’s complexity.
Additionally, there are two other significant historical inaccuracies that I find hard to overlook. First, the film shows Mary being with her mother, Katherine, at the time of her death, when in reality Henry had forbidden them from seeing each other. This separation profoundly shaped Mary’s character and future reign, making its omission rather confusing. Secondly, the depiction of Henry interrupting Anne’s trial is entirely fabricated. The last time Anne saw Henry was at a joust the day before her arrest, and she was not allowed to converse with witnesses or the other accused. While likely added for drama, this inaccuracy diminishes the reality of Anne’s isolated and harrowing final days.
However, one historical inaccuracy I can wholeheartedly forgive is, without question, the most powerful scene in the film. Anne’s speech to Henry in the Tower, delivered after her condemnation, is entirely fictional – but what a breathtaking moment it is. Anne’s declaration to the King, “My Elizabeth shall be queen, and my blood will have been well spent,” is nothing short of cinematic brilliance.
Of course, Anne would never have dared to utter such a defiant statement – doing so would have endangered her daughter’s future – but the scene captures the spirit of Anne’s resilience. While it may not be historically accurate, it feels like something Anne might have thought in her final days: a belief in the glory her daughter would achieve, even though she would not live to witness it.
To be honest, I was disappointed by the execution scene. While it did portray Anne as composed – albeit understandably scared, which I can appreciate – it omitted her final speech, an integral part of Anne’s legacy. By doing so, the film stripped Anne of her last words, a moment that was not only historically significant but also a testament to her strength and dignity in the face of death.
Geneviève Bujold’s portrayal of Anne Boleyn is nothing short of phenomenal. She captures Anne’s ambition, wit, and vulnerability with precision. To me, she is the best cinematic Anne, rivalled only by Natalie Dormer’s portrayal in The Tudors.
Anne of the Thousand Days is a masterpiece of historical drama. While it sometimes takes liberties with the facts, it delivers a deeply moving portrayal of Anne Boleyn’s rise and fall. From its captivating opening to its emotionally charged ending, the film brings Anne’s story to life in a way that no other film has. Geneviève Bujold’s performance is unforgettable, and I would highly recommend this film to anyone interested in Tudor history or Anne Boleyn herself.
Rating
4/5
