The world was a very different place in 1970 – the Vietnam War was raging, the Cold War tensions had risen to a grotesque peak, and the world watched on tenterhooks, waiting for some sign that there would be some kind of resolution. One institution was always reliable in bringing people together – the Miss World pageant, the annual competition that saw women from around the world pitted against each other and judged on their appearance and, to a lesser extent, their charm and deportment. Nearly a century since the first wave of feminism, such contests were simply outdated – which is what Misbehaviour, the powerful new drama hailing from Philippa Lowthorpe, takes aim at. A fascinating character-driven film that looks into a variety of perspectives surrounding the 1970 edition of the competition, we’re introduced to the organizers who are faced with the realization that their endeavour is not only outdated, but also blatantly against the march towards a progressive ideal, and the groups that make sure that they’re fully aware of how inappropriate the conducting of such activities actually were, especially in a time when equality was paramount over entertainment. Caught between the feuding groups are the women who are unfortunately made complicit in these battles between the institution and those fearless individuals who took them on, demanding not only equal representation in one specific area but a shift in the mentality, in which minorities and marginalized groups may finally be allowed to compete in the same way as their patriarchally-aligned counterparts, earning a seat the table through merit and fairness, rather than novelty.

Diversity has rightfully become one of the most significant issues in modern filmmaking – the past few decades have seen a gradual but consistent movement towards giving voices to those who not only deserve it but desperately needed. Second-wave feminism, which came about in the 1960s, was one of the formative moments for matters of equality, which is essentially the subject that Lowthorpe intended to investigate with Misbehaviour, her wonderfully poignant biographical comedy about the pioneering of the Women’s Liberation Movement in the United Kingdom at the beginning of the 1970s, which took on the Miss World pageant as a way of not only inciting discussions on equality in this specific area (which still persists as a subject that many progressive thinkers believe is thoroughly outdated and worthless, despite still being quite a popular annual tradition), but also making a profound statement on the various challenges women face when it comes to how they’re represented in the media. This particular edition of the pageant was notable for a number of reasons – not only did it see the Women’s Liberation Movement engage in one of their boldest protests at the time, but also a move towards wider inclusion, with the first two black contestants in the history of the competition taking part, one of them being crowned the winner, a revolutionary coup produced not only by the fact that they were afforded to opportunity to compete, but because standards and beliefs around this archaic system shifted. The recurring motifs that are evoked throughout the film give Misbehaviour a rebellious sheen that it uses exceptionally well, creating an atmosphere that not only enthrals viewers interested in this period of history, but also makes a deeply compelling social statement that gives insights into an era of great cultural upheaval, the effects of which are still indelible to this day.

Lowthorpe made a truly mesmerizing film that may tend towards being twee on occasion, as well as following a familiar formula, but ultimately joins the likes of Made in Dagenham and Pride as joyful comedies that take aim at very serious social subjects, creating a truly compelling story of social defiance and resilience, the likes of which are both deeply fascinating and incredibly motivating to modern audiences. These films constitute a sub-genre of resistance comedies that are as heartwarming as they are powerfully moving, adopting a method of social consciousness that works exceptionally well when channelled through the guise of well-meaning comedy. It is certainly far from original, and there have been countless other feminist manifestos produced on film that are a lot more unique in their approach – however, if we’re considering the breadth of the potential audience that this film can get, by virtue of its promise to be a rollicking, feel-good comedy that follows a similar structure and gives the audience exactly what they were expecting, we can forgive its somewhat formulaic underpinnings. Moreover, it’s through the adoption of such a charming exterior that Misbehaviour is able to actually go deeper into this story, putting together a really endearing comedy about very important issues, one that takes the subject seriously, but has some fun along the way, creating an undeniably bewitching story of defiance that is more cohesive than it is insightful – but as with anything that promotes the idea of showing some of history’s most unheralded heroes in a way that is accessible to a global audience,  the film overcomes its quaint confines and flourishes into something quite remarkable, which is present from the very beginning, and grows in sincerity as the film progresses, concluding with an unquestionably poignant ending that supports the message of inclusion and representation in a very beautiful,  thoroughly unexpected manner.

What sets Misbehaviour apart from other similarly-themed films is how it is less about the ideology as a whole, and more about the individuals. So many protest policy is about broader groups, so for a film to take the step to explore these themes through giving a face to the concepts is quite interesting, even if it isn’t as revolutionary as it would sound. Lowthorpe investigates this particular event through half a dozen different characters – the founders of the Women’s Liberation Movement, a few of the contestants competing in the Miss World pageant, and the people behind the competition, all of which are interwoven into this compelling historical drama. As a result, there are a few terrific performances contained in Misbehaviour, such as Keira Knightley, who makes use of her endless charm and ability to evoke true gravitas from challenging material as a means to command the film without distracting from her co-stars, with whom she is on equal par in terms of being a component of this broad character tapestry. Jessie Buckley and Gugu Mbatha-Raw are absolute scene-stealers in playing polar opposites – the former is a feisty, rebellious young feminist who may not understand the scope of what she’s doing, but is more than willing to face the consequences, as she knows that its worth it, while the latter is the image of ethereal grace as the pageant competitor who is caught between fighting for representation, while still pursuing her ambition. Even small roles from the likes of Lesley Manville (who is under-utilized in the role of Bob Hope’s long-suffering wife) and Keeley Hawes contribute to this powerful tale of social resistance. The only weakness in the film comes on behalf of Greg Kinnear, who gives a relatively poor imitation of Bob Hope – while this film did strive for historical accuracy, the addition of Hope was somewhat unnecessary, other than being a representative of a certain generational mentality that the film was demonstrating as being prominent at the time. Yet, the cast as a whole is a solid ensemble of dedicated performers, who do very well, regardless of the size of their roles.

Misbehaviour is a solid film – it may fall victim to the same trite conventions that always go into the production of these socially-conscious comedies that look into the conflicts between different generations and social groups at one particular point in recent history, but it does so in a way that is undeniably charming. Philippa Lowthorpe helmed a wonderfully delightful film that takes aim at very serious matters, without losing the effervescence that makes it such an agreeable piece of biographical storytelling. Combining the strengths of a truly dedicated cast, lead by the remarkable Keira Knightley, and told with the earnest sincerity of a group of storytellers truly committed to representing a powerful movement in history that continues to resonate to this day in how we perceive equality in many areas of life, Misbehaviour is a truly endearing film. It may not make any bold statement that we didn’t already know but does evoke a certain fury in the viewer in terms of how it portrays the truth of these situations – keeping everything so subtle and restrained, but rather leaving it up to implication, such as in the frequent reduction of the women in a series of numbers, whether in how men rate them and provide them with merit based on how well they compare to another, or in their proportions, which the director playfully explores in a very effective way. There’s a wave of simmering anger in this film that could have been looked at with more attention, as the constant forays into levity do harm the film at some points, but the very presence of the fact that they’re not trivializing this story as just another incident, but rather producing it as a bold representation of a watershed moment in feminist history, is more than sufficient in proving Misbehaviour to be much more than just an exuberant look into the past, but a steadfast account of the changes that were evoked back then, and continue to resonate to the present day, making this a fascinating and highly relevant work of masterful biographical filmmaking.