Feature Review of David Michôd's 'The King'

Directed by: David Michôd. Starring: Timothée Chalamet, Joel Edgerton, Robert Pattinson, Lily-Rose Depp, Sean Harris and Ben Mendelsohn. Running time: 140 mins. 15 certificate.

Under sullen melancholic morning skies, the dead and dying litter the land. A sword is plunged into a hapless victim of war. With a brutal and sombre tone, so begins ‘The King’. Directed by David Michôd and co-written by Michôd alongside Joel Edgerton (who plays John Falstaff), ‘The King’ borrows from Shakespeare’s Henriad but structurally, it delivers a historical play-by-play in which we see Timothée Chalamet enact in the part of Prince Henry and his early reign as monarch; a figure remembered in the annuals of history as one of England’s great ‘warrior kings’.

The Kingdom is in open rebellion; the Scots, the Welsh, and ally turned foe, Lord Percy Hotspur (played zealously by Tom Glynn-Carney) are at the throat of weak and ineffectual incumbent King Henry iV, who is depicted briefly but brilliantly by Ben Mendelsohn. Meanwhile, son and heir, Prince Henry (known affectionately as Hal) is insouciantly occupied with the material pleasures of life with trusted friend, ‘lowly companion’, and fellow mead-fiend John Falstaff; busily debauching and entirely divorced from the godly right of kings. But ‘whoring fool’ Hal will not play that role for long; England’s influencers and schemers have machinations of him wearing the crown – the stage is set for war with France.

History buffs will bathe in the glory of ‘The King’: The 15th Century has been depicted in all its dark and moody glory. The cinematography is masterful; the film looks like a tapestry brought to life. The actors go about their slovenly consumption of meat with gusto, while pestilential coughing and spluttering further the immersion. There are some fine performances in ‘The King’: Chalamet delivers a fittingly stoic and haunted Hal (a role last depicted in 1989 by Kenneth Branagh). Outcast by his then King father, later burdened by sovereignty; he personifies the thematic exploration of legacy and treachery that unravels in Michôd’s latest film. Chalamet’s boy-like frame and physicality may raise eyebrows during scenes of combat, but this is not Game of Thrones and it intensifies the medieval realism. Michôd’s keen eye for naturalism further extends into a well-cast Edgerton as Falstaff, who, parting with folklore, drops the fool-like tenor and replaces it with a more no-nonsense and grizzled performance; one that is elevated by excellent on-screen chemistry with Chalamet.

A temperamental, time-encapsulating atmosphere is conjured by a dark and brooding musical score, companioned by equally appropriate vernacular that flirts on Shakespearean borders (lexicon such as ‘pray you’, ‘bleetings’ and ‘superior faculty’ may flummox some), but isn’t overly alien to modern ears. The dialogue is satisfyingly stark and precise; gruff grunts and hushed whispers pepper the unfolding drama.

The landscape in ‘The King’ is artfully engineered while garb, armour and weaponry have been meticulously researched and brought to life. So too are the battle scenes – especially Agincourt; the climactic centrepiece and pivotal point of the tale is brutally depicted and choreographed, with men and horses colliding amid the mud and blood of the rain-sodden battlefield. Furthermore, there are no missteps in authenticity (a la Braveheart) here; aficionados of late-medieval history may find it hard to resist geekily affirming: “YES, men at arms carrying war hammers.”

A final plot twist is delivered by Lily-Rose Depp’s character, Catherine of Valois. In ‘The King’ Catherine veers from Shakespearean tradition (dull-witted princess) and is reimagined as a sharp-minded woman with influence. Somewhat tragically, the character of Catherine is left largely underdeveloped, though ultimately this is not a fatal fault and the performance by Depp remains compelling.

Those not of Simon Schama’s tribe will find joy in the universal narrative of the boy who becomes a man. Further still, the thin but potent comedic thread that stems from Robert Pattinson’s performance as the French Dauphin will delight many. It bears fruit in the final acts and arrives as a welcome reprieve for those weary of the film’s foreboding tone. Blond-locked and sickeningly menacing, Patterson plays the role of sinister all-round ‘bad guy’; a supremely comical nuisance that rudely perverts proceedings for the newly crowned English king following the declaration of war.

A lisping archbishop (played by Andrew Havill) who provides more subtle levity, alongside Sean Harris as the slippery advisor, gives gravitas to the production. Perhaps Patterson’s Dauphin character is overcooked (the term ‘bad guy’ exists more comfortably when talking about ‘Die Hard’), but this only serves to elevate the film to an appropriately theatrical plane which, in turn, gives credence to Michôd’s vision of how he wanted the story to present itself: An ode to Shakespeare, yet a contemporary, cinematic experience about a formative, pivotal time in European History. A divided kingdom rife with political saboteurs – ‘The King’ seems to eerily mirror today’s climate. History is known to repeat itself, however, and undoubtedly the legacy of the Henry V will be remembered and reimaged for centuries to come.