“Ready?” Henry asked his wife.
“Of course,” said Anne. She took his large, warm hand and the pair stepped out of their limo onto the red carpet. A thousand bulbs flashed and popped and the crowd screamed hysterically at the beautiful couple. Anne, stunning in a black lacy McQueen number shot through with hints of emerald, owned the audience with her captivating black eyes and flirty grin. Henry was dashing in a dark blue tux, a bit bear-like, but definitely handsome. They nearly caused a riot with their beauty.
“Oh, Anne. You look stunning!” Angelina had towed Brad over by the hand and now brushed kisses on Anne and Henry’s cheeks. “How are you?”
Anne twisted her mouth a bit ruefully. “I’m fine. How are you two?”
“Exhausted between all these award shows and running the kids around.” Angie put her hand on Anne’s forearm and laughed a bit. “Being a mother is tiring. And, speaking of which, how’s little Elizabeth?”
“She’s great. A miniature genius, she is,” Henry said abruptly.
“But let’s not talk about our kids anymore! We’re at the Oscars!” Brad grinned easily. He pulled his skinny wife closer to him. “Again.”
Henry also wrapped his arm around his thin wife. “Again,” he agreed, like it was a regular Sunday night.
“Oh, there’s George! Let’s go say hi.” Angelina tugged her husband away again, this time beelining for Clooney and whatever new girlfriend he came up with this year.
Anne, though a winning smile remained on her face, whispered, “If they say one more thing about their…their bus-load of children –”
“I’ll send them to the Tower,” Henry finished. Anne rolled her eyes.
“Come on,” she said. “The show is about to start, and we still haven’t spoken to any reporters. We need some positive press after that TMZ story about you and old Catherine.” Anne began walking elegantly towards Ben Mulroney and stepped on Henry’s foot when he didn’t move. He was staring at a suspicious line of four women with nametags. Jane Seymour, Anne Cleves, Kitty Howard, Kate Parr. His brow creased. Did he know those women?
“Of course not, Henry dear. I’m your wife. I’m the only one you’ve ever taken to the Oscars.” Anne plucked a remote from her clutch, hit a button, and watched with satisfaction as the four women vanished. “Now, I think Benny from Canada wants to talk with us.”
Well, Anne was always a bit of a show-stealer, and I couldn’t resist. But can’t you imagine Henry and Anne, desperate for a son, meeting with Brangelina, who have a ‘bus-load’ of kids? Awkward. Can’t you imagine seductive, elegant Anne perched on the arm of the imposing and majestic pre-obese Henry Tudor surrounded by celebs and flashing cameras? I can. And can’t you imagine Anne decked out in McQueen?? BECAUSE I CAN!
It’s always Anne in the movies. I’ve never seen a movie starring Cat of Aragon, Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, Kitty Howard, or Kate Parr as the lead. Yes, C.o.A and J.S. usually play supporting roles, but not the others. Shows like The Six Wives of Henry VIII and The Tudors do try to make each wife shine, but let’s face it. In The Tudors, Anne starred in 21 episodes, Cat of Aragon in 18, Jane in 10, Anne of Cleves in 5, Kitty Howard in 6, and Kate Parr in 5.
One of my personal favourite movies, Anne of the Thousand Days (1969), turned out to be a good friend of Oscar despite many negative reviews. It won an Academy Award for Best Costume Design and was also nominated for Best Picture, Best Adapted Screenplay, Best Cinematography, Best Leading Actor (Richard Burton), Best Leading Actress (Geneviève Bujold — a French Canadian!), Best Supporting Actor (Anthony Quayle), Best Art Direction-Set Decoration, Best Music, & Best Sound.
Happy 84th Oscar Night! Will you be watching? And will you be imagining sixteenth-century women walking the red carpet? ‘Cause I will be.
Also, Susan Bordo will be releasing her book on Anne Boleyn in pop culture, The Creation of Anne Boleyn, next year. I am very excited!