Madonna’s “W./E.” All Style, No Substance
Madonna’s W.E. is a visually sumptuous and ambitious film that interweaves two parallel narratives: the infamous love story of King Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, and the fictional journey of Wally Winthrop, a modern woman obsessed with their legacy.
While the film struggles with narrative cohesion and depth, it undeniably excels in artistic direction, costume design, and sheer cinematic beauty.
The film’s dual-structure is its most significant narrative risk, following Wallis Simpson (Andrea Riseborough) as she navigates the demands and sacrifices of her relationship with Edward (James D’Arcy), while also chronicling Wally Winthrop (Abbie Cornish), a disillusioned woman in 1998 whose fascination with Wallis becomes a means of escape from her own abusive marriage. Unfortunately, this structure is where W.E. stumbles the most. Wally’s storyline feels underdeveloped and, at times, distracts from the far more compelling historical sequences. Her modern journey lacks the emotional heft to justify its prominence, making it feel like an unnecessary framing device rather than a meaningful parallel.
Additionally, the film’s perspective on Wallis Simpson seems conflicted. Madonna is clearly fascinated by Wallis, attempting to reframe her not as a scheming social climber but as a woman burdened by the demands of love and duty. However, the script does not fully explore the complexities of her character. While Andrea Riseborough gives a mesmerizing performance, the film largely glosses over the more controversial aspects of Edward and Wallis’ story—such as their alleged Nazi sympathies—resulting in a romanticized portrayal that feels incomplete.
A Visual Feast
If W.E. excels in one area, it is undoubtedly in its visual splendor. Madonna, with the keen eye of a style icon herself, ensures that the film is a feast for the senses, meticulously curating an atmosphere of luxury, sophistication, and historical grandeur. Every frame is designed to be visually intoxicating, from the couture-level costuming to the opulent settings that transport the audience between the aristocratic elegance of the 1930s and the sleek modernity of 1998.
Costume designer Arianne Phillips, nominated for an Academy Award for her work on the film, masterfully recreates the signature style of Wallis Simpson, one of the most fashion-forward women of her time. The wardrobe choices are not only period-accurate but also deeply intentional in reflecting Wallis’ personality—sharp, poised, and effortlessly stylish.
Simpson’s real-life devotion to couture is echoed in her on-screen wardrobe, with impeccable recreations of her most famous outfits. From the sleek, structured silhouettes of her tailored daywear to the elegant, flowing evening gowns, each ensemble exudes the kind of effortless chic that made Wallis an enduring fashion icon. The choice of color and texture—such as the striking blue Mainbocher dress reminiscent of one worn by the real Wallis—emphasizes both her refinement and the way she used fashion as a form of power. Her accessories, including Cartier jewelry and intricate hats, complete the aura of aristocratic allure.
Even the modern-day storyline benefits from Phillips’ fashion-forward approach. Wally Winthrop’s wardrobe in 1998 is carefully designed to mirror the elegance of Wallis Simpson, creating a subtle connection between the two women. Her outfits, while contemporary, evoke a similar air of refinement, underscoring the film’s theme of longing for an idealized past.
The film’s settings are as rich and detailed as its costuming. The 1930s sequences transport the viewer to an era of aristocratic excess, with grand European estates, lavish ballrooms, and intimate, candlelit soirées providing a stunning backdrop to the romance between Edward and Wallis. The production design pays meticulous attention to historical accuracy, filling the interiors with rich textures, art deco furniture, and luxurious details that heighten the atmosphere of elite indulgence.
A particularly striking sequence takes place at the Villa Windsor in Paris, the former residence of Edward and Wallis. The interiors are rendered with an air of nostalgic grandeur, evoking the lingering presence of a bygone era. The use of natural lighting and warm color palettes in these scenes enhances the feeling of intimacy, making the viewer feel as if they are stepping directly into a hidden world of aristocratic exile. Conversely, the modern-day settings provide a stark contrast. Wally’s New York life is depicted through clean lines, muted colors, and sleek contemporary spaces that feel emotionally cold in comparison to the lush warmth of the past. This deliberate juxtaposition reinforces the idea that Wally is yearning for something unattainable—an era of romance, beauty, and high society that exists only in her imagination.
From a purely aesthetic standpoint, W.E. is breathtaking. Madonna and cinematographer Hagen Bogdanski employ a dreamlike quality in the film’s visuals, using a mix of soft-focus shots, sweeping slow-motion sequences, and close-ups that accentuate details—whether it be a beaded gown shimmering under candlelight or the delicate embroidery of Wallis’ gloves. The camera lingers on luxurious textures, from velvet drapes to polished silverware, creating a world that feels as seductive as the romance it portrays.
Lighting plays a key role in defining the film’s mood. The historical scenes are often bathed in a warm, golden glow, evoking a sense of nostalgia and timeless elegance, while the modern-day sequences favor cooler, more clinical lighting, reflecting Wally’s emotional detachment from her present reality. This interplay of light and shadow adds to the film’s painterly quality, making every frame feel like a meticulously crafted work of art.
Additionally, the use of montages and symbolic imagery—such as floating feathers, falling pearls, and flickering candlelight—enhances the film’s poetic, almost hypnotic quality. These stylistic choices lend W.E. an avant-garde edge, distinguishing it from traditional historical dramas and aligning it more with fashion photography or a high-concept editorial spread.
While W.E. is undeniably beautiful, it struggles to forge a deep emotional connection.
The film often feels like a curated mood board of elegance and tragedy rather than a fully realized narrative. Dialogue leans into melodrama, and the pacing is disjointed, particularly when shifting between time periods. The modern-day sequences lack the urgency or depth needed to hold their own against the far more compelling historical drama. Additionally, while Abel Korzeniowski’s score is haunting and evocative—elevating many scenes with its sweeping, melancholic compositions—it sometimes overshadows the story, leaning into sentimentality rather than allowing the characters' emotions to unfold organically.
Yet despite its narrative shortcomings, *W.E.* is an exquisite visual experience, immersing the audience in a world of decadence, romance, and unfulfilled longing. Arianne Phillips’ costume design is nothing short of masterful, elevating Wallis Simpson’s status as a fashion icon, while the production design and cinematography create an intoxicating blend of nostalgia and fantasy.
Andrea Riseborough delivers a stellar performance that anchors the historical sequences, but the modern-day storyline remains underdeveloped and ultimately unnecessary. The film prioritizes aesthetics over emotional depth, resulting in a mesmerizing spectacle that is visually captivating but less resonant in impact.
For those who appreciate film as a visual art form, *W.E.* is a lavishly curated masterpiece—more an opulent dream than a grounded historical drama. It may not provide the most profound or insightful portrait of Wallis Simpson, but it certainly ensures that she, and the world she inhabited, are presented in the most glamorous light possible. Those drawn to period dramas with impeccable costuming and a keen eye for luxury will find much to admire, but viewers seeking a nuanced, gripping exploration of Wallis Simpson’s life may be left wishing for a sharper, more focused narrative.