The Regime premiere: Kate Winslet goes full absurd

Welcome to the palace. Pardon the mess, it seems the government in this country in Middle Europe is currently engaged in some serious remodeling of this most lavish of buildings that we are in no obligation to see as somewhat standing in for more systemic governing issues. Sure, it’s hard not to see a metaphor staring right at you when you learn Chancellor Elena Vernham (Kate Winslet) is paranoid that the entire structure of her palace is awash with mold and overrun with needless extra moisture—so much so that a total gut-down might be necessary and yet wholly unfeasible. But then, how do you build something that lasts atop a foundation that’s clearly rotting?

But enough metaphorizing. There’ll be enough time for that later. For above all, HBO’s latest series, The Regime, is about the joys of watching one of her generation’s greatest actors chewing scenery with gusto as a power-hungry, germaphobe of a stateswoman eager to make sure her vanity and her ambitions (both for herself and for her country) are in fine alignment as she navigates increased tensions within and abroad. But it is not Elena who introduces us to the world of The Regime. We enter it instead through the eyes of Herbert Zubak (Matthias Schoenaerts in full laconic mode), a soldier who may have been slightly drugged ahead of being dropped off at the steps of the palace. There, he’s scooped up by Agnes (Andrea Riseborough in full Renfield mode), the palace majordomo who guides him through what has to be the most insane orientation session ever and leaves him at Elena’s doorstep, basically. There, he learns he’ll be little more than a waver of a moisture contraption that tells the paranoid Chancellor whether, well, there’s a lot of moisture in the air.

He’s been chosen, he learns, because of his involvement in what the press has dubbed a massacre at “Site Five.” (He, along with other soldier involved are outright being called “butchers.”) Clearly there’s unrest in the cobalt mines, and the Chancellor is particularly eager to stand by her men in the military. Which is a canny move if you’ve ever read up on any kind of historical regime with a precarious hold on power.

Is there chemistry between them? Well, Winslet, in body-hugging dresses and impeccable hair and makeup, is confronted with the hunk of a man that is Schoenaerts, so you be the judge. In between learning to stay in front of Elena as she parades through the palace (most of it covered in plastic, everything in mid-construction, apparently), Zubak is morose if quiet. He takes okay to his tight quarters and is clearly wanting to make the most out of his appointment.

That all changes during a late night event celebrating “Victory Day” where the Chancellor, at the urging of her sniveling government lackeys, is to put on a good show for the Americans in hopes of sealing a deal wherein an affable U.S. businessman will contract with this small Middle Europe country in exchange for their cobalt. As she puts it, “we’re a young central European republic ready to embrace a modern corporate governance,” the kind of line that feels hilariously absurd for how truthful it sounds.

Nevertheless, the deal with the Americans is one Elena is maybe not so keen on (she’s been dragging her feet on it for quite a while) and so, when she first learns her American guests don’t eat red meat (how dare they choose to eat meek food like salmon!) and then gets flustered and embarrassed when Zubak reads his moisture levels in front of said guests, she outright loses it. Taking Zubak aside, she slaps him and then, unable to shake the entire thing off, opts to call off the contract altogether. She won’t be made to accept a deal that so leaves her at the mercy of foreigners. What that may mean diplomacy-wise let alone economics-wise is yet to be determined but she values power and strength so…there’s that.

And it would be all that, especially for Elena and Zubak were it not for a late night visitor to her quarters. A man who we’ve seen roaming the palace as if lost (though it’s now obvious he was casing the joint) arrives at Elena’s bed to…hurt her? Scare her? It’s unclear, but thankfully, Zubak comes to her rescue. (Yes, not even her sleeping husband nearby was of any help.) He all but beats the guy to death, all while Elena screams and screams, her fears all compounding together to make her feel isolated and defenseless from threats both near and far, microbial and political.

Two weeks pass. And our chancellor has upgraded herself into eccentric billionaire territory, what with endless dehumidifiers everywhere she goes, endless holistic therapies designed to keep her healthy, and even a transportation device that reads like a lo-fi sci-fi palanquin. She’s clearly struggling to get her bearings back since the incident. Thankfully, Zubak is ready to snap her out of it. After seeing how it’s obvious her own government is going to use this moment to banish the Chancellor to a less noxious environment (there’s no budget to remodel and so little to actually do with such a toxic building like the palace), Zubak swoops in to get Elena to realize that she’s been intentionally kept weak: “They want you crippled because you have something they will never have: a fucking dream!” he urges her. Vanity is clearly the thing that would work here and so, in the blink of an eye, Elena does snap out of it.

She orchestrates a political clean-up in her party (throwing those hoping to have stayed working in the government in the palace while she was elsewhere into prison under dubious claims of treason) and sets up a missive to her people where she stresses how they’ll no longer feed on NATO’s tea (nor the American’s “generosity”): “It’s time to say enough. We will no longer suffer for their greed.”

It’s a bold move. One that’s certain to cause waves further out from the palace than what she’d first intended. But therein will lie the fun of the show, no?

Stray observations

• I had to bracket this out from the proper recap but Winslet singing Chicago’s “If You Leave Me Now” at that state dinner as both a romantic ballad (for and with her husband but also clearly about her country) was jaw-dropping. Both for its absurd energy but also for Winslet’s commitment to the bit. May we get more Elena singing this season!
• With 11 Oscar nominations and 2 wins (for The Shape of Water and The Grand Budapest Hotel), Alexandre Desplat is arguably one of the most accomplished and awarded composers around. Will his textured, playful work here in The Regime usher in his very first Emmy nomination (and possible win)? We can only hope!
• If there aren’t already GIFs of a shirtless Matthias doing push-ups by the time this recap publishes, I will be very very disappointed in and for the Internet at large.
• What to make of Elena’s continued playful (?) nods to having met Zubak in her dreams and, asking for a friend, how can I get him to visit me in mine?
• Now that we know salmon is (for the) meek; what other food items do we think Elena considers weak?
• Anyone else get Olivia “Did you look at me? LOOK AT ME! How dare you!” Colman vibes from Winslet’s own “I AM NOT RIDICULOUS” outrage?
• Speaking of Winslet’s performance, this truly feels unlike anything else she’s done before (her physicality! that voice! the absurdist comedic timing!). It’s quite refreshing even if it requires a recalibration. For so long she’s been rightly heralded as a soulful, sensitive actor whose raw authenticity has made everything from sweeping romantic epics to handsome period dramas sing. But here, in full comedic mode, she’s a force to be reckoned. Now if we could only find her these kinds of roles for the big screen so she can finally win her much deserved follow-up Oscar.
• No more chilling line here deployed than the gritted-teeth invocation on which Winslet’s Elena closes us off: “I bless you all and I bless our love, always.” Talk about yikes.