While I’m not often able to pull together a post since I’ve commenced graduate studies, I’m making an exception for Netflix’s new film The King. As I believe I remain the only Berean to ever be publicly labeled a monarchist or review a Netflix production, last Friday’s release of The King created a reviewing duty I could not and would not avoid.

The movie, starring Timothée Chalamet, Joel Edgerton, Robert Pattinson, and Sean Harris, examines a slice of the life of English King Henry V, beginning just before his rise to the throne and tracing his reign through the triumph over French forces at the Battle of Agincourt. Of course, this story is not new, having been treated by contemporary chroniclers and many generations of historians. Most famously, Shakespeare’s Henreiad, a set of several historical plays, presents Henry V’s career as a turn from a boisterous youth through an inspiring kingship.

The King portrays many of the same events and characters as found in Shakespeare’s plays, but with numerous differences that lead to an original narrative and themes. Those expecting to hear another rendition of the wonderful St. Crispin’s Day Speech may be disappointed. Sir John Falstaff is not the comic of the stage, but Edgerton’s performance brings a remarkable depth and balance to the character.

With these and other choices, The King skirts the risk of reproducing on film the excellent Shakespearean drama, a worthy service that has already been achieved. Rather, this movie is more of a period drama, establishing a vision of the Late Middle Ages by bringing viewers carefully but thoroughly into its households, ceremonies, and conflicts. In this it largely succeeds. The civil strife, regional rivalries, and political institutions of 14^th-15^th century England are subtly introduced and carefully sketched over the course of the narrative in ways that are simultaneously interesting and significant to the plot. The King neither gets lost in a riot of detail, nor pursues a bare-bones structure that leaves audiences uncertain of actions and motivations, a difficult feat for an extended story about centuries-old events. As a result, while tension builds slowly, the film feels measured rather than sluggish.

Of course, there are a few objectionable moments, but I found them rather closely curtailed than what I had expected. A couple gory moments stemming from executions, a few profanities, and two brief moments in Henry’s troubled youth are the limit of the content most unsuitable for younger viewers. While a good deal of combat is presented, and often at close quarters, it remains largely bloodless despite the raw physicality of the violence, a strong representation of warfare in the Middle Ages.

Rather than being carried along by excesses or thrills, this movie depends on dialogue and character development to engage its audience. The script is not centered around one-liners or emotional arguments, but conversations are crisp, with a few moments of thematic depth and key quotations, driving the plot and outlining the antagonism that events on screen are forced to resolve. The story itself focuses closely around the title character, King Henry V, and the evolution he undergoes as he occupies the throne and confronts the realities of the crown. Viewers sympathize with Henry as he listens to an Archbishop’s difficult-to-follow speech, seeks to save lives, and struggles to know who to trust or how to act.

In walking alongside the young king, the movie toes a fine line of historical accuracy, tailoring its presentation of characters to advance a particular story at times, but in other cases remaining remarkably accurate to historical record. The Battle of Agincourt is an excellent example, being very well presented in terms of the terrain, events, tactics, and flow of the struggle. Additionally, the battle also demonstrates the movie’s ability to achieve impressive visuals, whether sweeping landscapes, sea views, a siege at nighttime, a royal coronation, or a clash of armies. A rich range of historical entities and personalities is also presented, including noblemen and elites from across the nations and kingdoms of Europe.

One group that is largely and interestingly absent is the English lower classes. While a few scenes introduce viewers to what appears to be a public house and its keeper, the masses most often appear as simply that, a largely faceless group cheering or fighting, primarily offscreen. The people and the kingdom are the main concern of the film’s main characters, but they appear as passive subjects in the face of the debates, struggles, and policies of the upper classes. On the eve of battle, Henry struggles with how best to lead his army, but rather than wandering among them incognito to hear their thoughts and share his, he simply internalizes the doubts and fears he confronts. The excellence of the English archers is counted on, but viewers have no interaction with them, apart from briefly observing them silently put their bows into action. While Henry is constantly concerned to spare the lives of his men, their willingness to die for him is never questioned, and their distress or suffering is rarely shown, if often considered.

This absence points toward the real theme and purpose of the film, partially hidden by the descriptive nature of many of its elements. The struggle of leadership is on full, troubled display here as a youth inherits the reigns and problems of a kingdom. Viewers are led to feel with Henry as he wonders who to trust, what to do, how to make a difference, what to say, and how to respond to conflicts thrust upon him. In this way, the film suggests that decisions make a difference, even if impacts are largely unseen, and resources must be used to good effect, no matter how much thought this requires. When trusted advisors repeatedly tell Henry that success or failure rests on his shoulders, despite little experience or certainty, this story becomes very human and very personal, despite its epic setting. In the end, this film excels because of its patient willingness to bring audiences into the challenges, opportunities, and burdens of the King.