For its first hour or so, The Queen is carried along by a witty irreverence, equally targeting the queen and Blair as both manage their self-image. But then, instead of trusting Mirren to convey the queen's emotional transition -- which she does, brilliantly -- the film comes up with a heavy-handed metaphor for the loss of tradition. During one countryside excursion, the queen spots a magnificent stag and tries to save it from being shot, appreciating its beauty, vulnerability, wildness, and purity.
If this isn't enough, the film later delivers the Queen's "lesson" in an oddly passionate speech by Blair to his staff, which instructs them (and viewers, as if they haven't been watching the queen pondering her dilemma for the past 90 minutes) on the queen's efforts to make sense of her new age. In this moment, the film shows a lack of faith in its own audience.