“Queen at Sea” (2026) is the “Fjord” (2026) of movies about people with dementia. There should be a warning that it is not a French film even though Juliette Binoche stars in it. Amanda Powell (Binoche) and her teenage daughter, Sara (Florence Hunt), walk in on their relatives, the Carvilles, having sex. Leslie Carville (Anna Calder-Marshall), Amanda’s mother, has dementia and appears catatonic while her husband and Amanda’s stepfather, Martin (Tom Courtenay), is her caretaker. Legally and visually, it appears to be rape until the movie unfolds and everyone gradually realizes that the shocking sight was better than the subsequent alternatives. While it is an extremely reductive synopsis for such a well-executed, nuanced and effective movie, it is the Sid Davis educational cautionary film of let a husband have sex with his wife even if she is medically declared incapable of consent or the entire world will fall apart. Writer and director Lance Hammer manages to thread the needle then string together several individually credible though possibly statistically less likely scenarios to put his thumb on the scale in favor of emotionally stirring an audience to become appalled at rules that only recently recognized that husbands can be found guilty of raping their wives.
This review may be equal parts lawyer, film critic and former elderly caregiver who thankfully never had to deal with this bag of rocks, so if that is not what you are looking for, skip this review. In the UK, while women are more likely to provide care (59% of caregivers are women), older male caregivers ranging from eighty-five to eighty-nine are doing some heavy lifting. So someone like Martin exists, and his story matters, but he is not the protagonist. Hammer puts the audience in the adult daughter’s shoes so we can relate to her journey of disgust, regret, repentance and reconciliation in her relationship with Martin then only later provides context that makes the kneejerk judgment seem ridiculous then implicitly condemns the system that created the scenario.
If “Queen at Sea” was told from Martin’s point of view, then from the beginning, there would be no misunderstanding, and it would be obvious that he was well-intentioned, not a lecherous, selfish husband. If the story showed what Amanda probably observed about the couple’s caring dynamic and the mother’s way of communicating her desires before the movie’s most provocative scene, then she would either be dumb or callous to accuse Martin of rape. Leslie is all impulse after the opening scene and is like a magnet constantly searching for her husband whether she recognizes him or not. Hammer constructs a movie that starts as if the characters were born in that opening sequence to elicit sympathy without villainizing anyone, but in the real world, Amanda would not be brand new. She would witness her mother hounding Martin for affection and only clearly communicating with him. Hammer’s manipulation works because Amanda’s revelations are discovered at the same rate as the audience so clarity over Martin’s guilt or innocence gradually comes into focus. There are people like Amanda who use law enforcement to make a point without thinking of the ramifications, but thanks to Binoche’s work, Amanda does not seem like a Karen though regardless of Hammer’s intention, by the end of “Queen at Sea,” with the benefit of hindsight, that is who she is at the beginning of the story.
“Queen at Sea” is a bit of a mess because it makes it seem as if Amanda as a daughter has more legal rights over her mother than Martin has as a husband. Unlike the US, the UK does not operate under a next of kin standard, but whoever is listed as a Lasting Power of Attorney (“LPA”), which implies that Leslie made that choice, which complicates the story in ways that Hammer may not have intended simply to add narrative tension. Without a LPA, healthcare professionals make the decisions. While none of these details are important to enjoy a drama, the dialogue implicitly references the possible ramifications if Amanda unilaterally decides issues without consulting Martin. If Hammer had considered these details, then they would not detract from the overall narrative. He also assumes that his viewers understand the broader context of the story that influences its trajectory, which makes sense if his primary audience is from the United Kingdom.
Though it is not explicitly discussed in “Queen at Sea”, current laws fuel the undercurrent of hysteria in the movie. A brief Google search reveals that no one like Martin has run afoul of the Sexual Offences Act 2003 (Section 30 makes it an offense to have sex with a person “unable to refuse” because of a mental disorder, which includes dementia) and the Mental Capacity Act 2005, which requires here and now consent (Section 27 states that no one can give substitute consent like a husband or someone holding a LPA or advance consent like a wife before losing capacity). The Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) usually prosecutes if there is enough evidence for a conviction and a public interest, but without signs of exploitation, distress, physical harm or abuse, no harm, no foul. The issue usually arises in residential care homes, not between married couples, which Hammer touches on, but as an affront to Martin, not a possible violation to Leslie per se. The prosecuted cases are usually similar to the Pelicot case with a husband incapacitating his wife so he and a group of strangers can rape her.
There is another context backdrop that exists beyond the movie’s story, but that affects it. Public outrage is emerging in online discourse about health care professionals’ visceral outrage at finding husbands sleeping with wives who medically should not be having intercourse (recently giving birth) or clearly lack capacity (comatose, sedated, coming out of anesthesia, unconscious). Amanda becomes their proxy. Hammer skips the prevalent subject of their outrage, flips the script and focuses on the subsequent investigation as the tool that actually harms Leslie and depicts women investigators and carers as the sexual assaulters and rapists because of the invasive, physical nature of their duties. Because Leslie does not understand their intent, Leslie’s reactions are the implicit condemnation of their interference. Their actions escalate Leslie’s sensitivity to touch. If you have seen “The Women of Brewster Place” (1989), you know where Hammer is going with this story arc, but everyone else will be shocked. Calder-Marshall maintains a mixture of innocence, distinct characteristics and blankness that renders her character above blame and bewildering circumstances as if a child is occupying an older person’s body.
Hammer has a right to focus on any topic that he wants, but it is practically Rube Goldbergian in how he finds a way to create a situation with the perfect male victim of the system, Martin. Groups such as the Alzheimer’s Society are concerned that someone like Martin, a husband in a lifelong committed relationship, could be criminalized. It is like when the Me Too movement existed then everyone said it went too far, but none of the consequences had a lasting impact except Harvey Weinstein is still confined. While it is fair to feel a certain way about Hammer bypassing actual stories and bringing to life a theoretical one, in this case, it is a valid concern. This movie may be the one time that when a character says that he did his own online research, there is actual research. Courtenay’s performance is nuanced with him sometimes acting like an oversized child who refuses to act sensibly but overall well-intentioned and loving. If Lars von Trier decided to torture men instead of women in his stories of sacrifice, Courtenay should be first on his list.
Just because it is manipulative does not mean the story does not have a point. “Queen at Sea” may be one of the rare movies that holds up under scrutiny after the credits stop rolling. Maybe do not see this movie if you are having a bad day because the mental hit may not be worth it despite the quality.
