SISI & I: The Empress Through Another’s Eyes

Sisi seems to be having a comeback in recent years, something that would no doubt irritate the notoriously reclusive monarch. In 2022 alone we were given two very different screen depictions of her life: Corsage, Marie Kreutzer’s punk rock reimagining of Sisi’s life after forty starring Vicky Krieps, and The Empress, German television’s dramatization of the early years of her reign starring Devrim Lingnau. Now Sisi’s back on screen again, albeit playing more of a supporting role this time around. Directed by Frauke Finsterwalder, Sisi & I portrays the final years of the Empress’ life through the eyes of the woman closest to her during that time: her loyal lady-in-waiting, Countess Irma Sztáray.

Starring Sandra Hüller as Irma, with Susanne Wolff assuming Sisi’s crown, Sisi & I provides an intriguing look at female rebellion and unrequited love during an era when pushing back against feminine stereotypes practically amounted to a death sentence. But the similarities to the incredible Corsage—from the darkly comic tone to the way it plays fast and loose with historical facts to the use of anachronistic music on the soundtrack—make Sisi & I’s “somewhat wild reinterpretation of the ‘Sisi’ myth” (to quote Finsterwalder) feel surprisingly derivative for a film that seeks to upend costume drama conventions much in the same way Sisi stubbornly upended the conventions that governed royal women throughout her life.

Royal Rebel

Sisi & I opens with a montage depicting a woman being tightly laced into a corset and dressed in all of the frivolous finery one associates with late nineteenth-century fashion. However, the woman being prepared for display as though she were a lavishly iced cake in a Viennese bakery window is not Empress Elisabeth of Austria, as one may have initially assumed, but a middle-aged Hungarian countess who has refused either marriage or the convent, leaving her with few options other than to serve a lady greater than herself. So, after a cringeworthy interview conducted by her predecessor, Countess Irma Sztáray is shipped off to Achilleion, the luxurious palace on the Greek island of Corfu where Sisi has been living apart from the Emperor with only other women for company for several years.

The Empress is a woman of very particular tastes who holds everyone around her to the same absurdly high standards she holds herself; she may not enjoy court life, but she does enjoy the control she has over others as a result of her royal status. Immediately upon arrival, Irma is made to run back and forth to see if she has the athletic ability necessary to accompany Sisi on her daily hikes; her frilly Viennese gowns are taken away and burned, replaced with the simple, Japanese-inspired frocks that Sisi prefers; and her appetite is curbed to match that of the empress, who is so obsessed with maintaining her famously tiny waist that she barely consumes more than a light broth at each meal. Despite being subjected to what essentially amounts to abuse, Irma ends up caring deeply for Sisi, to the point that she cannot imagine living without her. Alas, Sisi sees Irma very differently, less as a friend and confidant and more as a servant whose loyalty can be manipulated to serve her purposes as needed.

Love & Friendship

Sisi is often described as a woman very much ahead of her time, a deeply intelligent and independent figure who spoke numerous languages and was interested in sports, travel, and politics. However, she was also very much a woman of her time in that she never rejected any of the privileges she was entitled to as Empress despite hating the role’s restrictions on her behavior. That attitude of inborn superiority extends to and includes her treatment of those lower than her in status. Throughout Sisi & I, we watch the Empress dole out affection to those around her in doses so small they rival her meals for lack of real nourishment; she allows Irma and others to think she needs them just enough to ensure that, when the time comes, she’ll be able to use them accordingly. In Finsterwalder’s film, this culminates in Sisi asking Irma to do something almost unthinkable, resulting in a new twist on the legend of Sisi’s life and death that even Corsage didn’t dare try.

Still, it’s impossible to not compare Sisi & I to the previously released Corsage and see it come up slightly short (though it must be said that the allegations against some of the men involved in making Corsage certainly make Sisi & I the less problematic film). But as soon as Portishead’s “Wandering Star” kicked in on the soundtrack while Irma headed to her fateful interview, I began to question whether I was watching something I’d already seen. Using anachronistic music to highlight how Sisi was a figure not entirely of her time makes sense; doing it when another film on the subject has already done the same thing is less innovative than repetitive, especially when the song choices in Sisi & I often feel more gimmicky than anything else. (While I appreciate Finsterwalder wanting only women’s voices to be heard on the soundtrack, having Le Tigre’s rollicking “Decepticon” play as Irma was on her way to Corfu was bizarre to the point of distraction.)

It’s a shame to find yourself involuntarily making such comparisons, because Sisi & I is otherwise a very enjoyable movie, impeccably crafted and featuring brilliant performances from the two women in its leading roles. Every inch of the film looks as gorgeous as you’d expect from a movie about a monarch with an extravagant and unconventional lifestyle. Tanja Hausner’s lush, lustworthy costumes—from the sailor-inspired frock Irma wears upon arriving at Achilleion to the sporty ensembles both women wear while riding and hiking to the loose, tie-necked tunics Irma adopts while living with Sisi—may not be historically accurate, but they’re so stylish that you won’t care; the strange modernity of these ensembles suits the unusual way of life preferred by Sisi, and the way they evolve throughout the film perfectly echoes the evolution of both Sisi and (especially) Irma during their time together.

Wolff’s Sisi is a complicated creature of whims and impulses who treats those around her as little more than possessions, yet Wolff brings such charisma to the role that you can almost understand why everyone around her puts up with it. Meanwhile, Hüller’s Irma is an almost tragic figure, a middle-aged woman who is shunted from the household of one overbearing woman (her mother) to another with little opportunity to explore who she is on her own. Irma’s feelings for Sisi begin as a schoolgirl crush but soon evolve into an all-consuming passion that borders on obsession; she refers to Sisi as “my Empress,” jumps to physically defend her from the Emperor, and, in one scene that is so pathetic it cannot help but make your heart hurt, confesses her love to Sisi while showing her a box of every memento she has kept throughout their relationship. When Sisi responds with a cool rejection, Hüller’s eyes convey such painful desperation that you cannot help but feel deeply for her. Together, these two women skillfully portray a complex relationship that, while not exactly what one would call a healthy friendship, cannot help but capture your imagination.

Conclusion

While I’m sure the real Sisi would prefer to rest in peace and quiet without us constantly revisiting her legacy, Sisi & I is a worthwhile look at her life through the eyes of another, even as it suffers from comparisons to similar work.

Sisi & I opens in theaters in the U.S. on July 12, 2024.