“Lost In Space” Season Two Review!

In its second season, the family-friendly Netflix sci-fi drama Lost In Space takes our gallant team of heroes on an invigoratingly suspenseful new mission across the galaxy, searching for a planet to call home – preferably a planet that’s not about to be sucked into a black hole, but hey, sometimes you have to work with what you’ve got: and nobody is better at that than the Robinsons, a family of five plucky, over-achieving geniuses each armed with their own specific arsenal of unbelievable skills.

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After the Season 1 finale that left the family stranded in an alien region of the universe far from their spaceship, the Resolute, and even farther from their planned destination, the supposedly-peaceful human colony of Alpha Centauri, the Robinsons are forced to take shelter on a tiny beach somewhere on a vast ocean planet. There, they set up a base-camp and settle down – for seven months. And there we find them in the Season 2 pilot, as their collective restlessness is once again spurring them into action, forcing them to move quickly to escape the planet and find their friends onboard the Resolute – if they still can.

In Season 1, the narrative focus was largely on the characters of John (Toby Stephens), Maureen (Molly Parker) and Will Robinson (Maxwell Jenkins), who mostly shared the responsibility of trying to get the family off the aforementioned black-hole planet: all three had big hero moments, leaving little room for their supporting cast to develop into strong, well-rounded characters. The second season does manage to fit in a pretty decent character arc for the eldest daughter, medical student Judy Robinson (Taylor Russell), but its attempts to try and find a narrative purpose for aspiring author Penny Robinson (Mina Sundwall) feel forced and unconvincing – especially since the attempt is half-hearted, and simply fizzles out halfway through this ten-episode series, leaving the younger daughter with no conclusion to her arc (back in Season 1, a lot was made of the fact that Will Robinson didn’t feel special compared to his more naturally talented siblings, and that he was the only one in the family who had actually failed to make the cut to go to Alpha Centauri, before his mother cheated the system to get him through – but can someone explain to me why Will, with his advanced knowledge of mathematics, geometry and geology, feels like the odd one out, when Penny’s entire personality consists of making unnecessary jokes during dramatic moments, and the brief snippets of her writing revealed in this season seem half-baked, to say the least? Though I’m willing to cut her some slack if it’s just a first draft).

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The Robinsons’ ally, mechanic Don West (Ignacio Serricchio), has evolved into something of a brusque, headstrong antihero between seasons: some might call him a Han Solo type, but I actually see more similarities to Poe Dameron, a similarly trigger-happy flyboy with a humorous nature, rugged Latino charisma, a shady past, a tendency to disobey superiors, and a strong devotion to a diminutive sidekick (in this case a lucky chicken called Debbie, but the point remains). He doesn’t have a whole lot to do in this season, but I’m hopeful that he’ll have much more time to shine in a third season of the series – which we had better be getting, considering that this season leaves us with a few gut-punch revelations and more than a couple of unanswered questions.

But Season 2’s real star, and the woman who deserves to be the face of this series just as much as The Robot (Brian Steele), is comedian Parker Posey as the Robinsons’ unwilling ally?/friend?/antagonist? Dr. Smith – or Jessica Harris, or June Harris, or whatever name she’s going by at any given moment. Posey’s interpretation of the beloved character is a master manipulator, capable of twisting anyone around her finger with the help of what seems to be a legitimate background in psychology. I don’t think it’s unpopular or controversial to suggest that she’s even a better liar and sneak than, say, Loki in the Marvel Cinematic Universe – and she’s cheated death just as many times. It’s impossible to ever fully trust her or guess at her motives, but the show has a fantastic job of giving the other characters logical reasons to place her faith in her – even if it continuously backfires or places everybody in more danger. Posey was brilliant in Season 1, of course, but here she also has a slightly more zany, vibrant personality: from her slouchy, casual attire to her sudden nautical expertise.

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The true emotional core of the show is still Will’s relationship with The Robot, who went missing in the Season 1 finale and to whom Will feels telepathically connected. While their subplot (or, well, I guess it’s technically the main plot) is certainly compelling, it’s also a bit more confusing than the other characters’ relatively simple arcs: there’s a whole bunch of new robots, and new questions about the robots, and about the humans’ connection to the robots, and about the robot culture, and about that weird-looking alien engine that the robots are looking for, and about a million other little things that just show up without any explanation. And while, yes, the story of Will and The Robot has a couple unique complexities, it largely follows the same general structure as any story in which a young child encounters an alien that the powers-that-be would want to hide or abuse, making it the most well-worn of Lost In Space‘s tropes.

Overall, though, the series has largely avoided predictability, and continues to throw curveballs at the Robinsons, masterfully blending wholesome, family-friendly whimsy with darker, more mature themes and genuine thrills, scares and moments of suspense – though, to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure any of the most suspenseful moments in Season 2 quite equal the sensational tension of Season 1, the pilot episode of which opened with Judy trapped under the ice of an alien lake with a mere five hours of oxygen left to breathe, Maureen weaving in and out of consciousness while Penny performed amateur surgery on her wounded leg, Will stuck in a forest fire, about to be killed by The Robot, and John forced to choose which of his children he could save without dooming the others to death. There are a couple moments in this season that come close – but, obviously, they’re sort of spoilers.

So if you’re looking for some wildly exciting science-fiction to dive into, I strongly encourage you to set sail for the stars and get lost in all the emotional drama, CGI spectacle and jaw-dropping action of Lost In Space, Season 2. Unless Netflix doesn’t renew the series for a third season, leaving us with no resolution to this season’s epic finale (unlikely, but you never know), then I can pretty much guarantee that you will not be disappointed.

Series Rating: 8.7/10

“The Witcher” Review!

Netflix’s hotly-anticipated adaptation of Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski’s fantasy novels and short story anthologies hit the ground running yesterday, quickly gathering a tightly-knit fan community and garnering praise from viewers. Its low Rotten Tomatoes score suggests disapproval from critics, but for my part, I have to say I’m one of those who simply can’t get enough of the “grimdark” fantasy world that Sapkowski created, and showrunner Lauren S. Hissrich has lovingly brought to life.

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The world of The Witcher is a twisted, messed-up place filled with hostile countries and city-states tenuously held together by the secret machinations of royal mages. In this world, mutated men called Witchers roam the violent backwoods corners of The Continent, hunting monsters for a price and carving out brutal, lonely lives for themselves. Our protagonist, the semi-heroic Geralt of Rivia (Henry Cavill) is one of the most legendary, but also the most feared and reviled: where he goes, trouble follows, and people are eager to chase him away whenever he comes close.

Cavill, despite playing a brooding, hulking warrior devoid of human emotions, is surprisingly charismatic and endearing – his enthusiasm for the source material is evident (Cavill has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of both the novels and the accompanying video games), and that same enthusiasm shines through most clearly in his action sequences and fight scenes, all of which Cavill himself performed without the help of stunt doubles. And even though many of us worried that his long, silvery locks and bright yellow eyes made him look like he was wearing a Halloween costume, Cavill rocks the strange but unique style – except in Episode 2, for whatever reason: possibly because it’s the most brightly lit in the entire season, and it accentuates how unnaturally yellow and inexpressive his contact lenses really are. I understand that Cavill doesn’t want to give up the coveted role of Superman in the DCEU – but after watching The Witcher, I think it should be clear that, with his gruff voice and intense physicality, the actor was born and bred for roles like these, where he can let loose and be a feral, ferocious, demon-slaying mercenary. It’s impossible to even imagine him going back to the squeaky-clean Superman persona after this.

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But while Cavill is getting a lot of attention for carrying the show, the talents of his female co-stars Anya Chalotra and Freya Allen are just as worthy of praiseworthy ballads (speaking of which, I’m going to have “Toss A Coin To Your Witcher” stuck in my head for weeks). Chalotra, especially, does a fantastic job as the troubled sorceress Yennefer of Vengerburg, whose journey begins in a town full of bigots who mock her for her physical disabilities – her own father eventually sells her off to a mage for a bargain price. But Yennefer rises above the haters and becomes one of the series’ strongest and most iron-willed characters, as she trains to become The Continent’s most powerful mage. Her story would be especially fascinating no matter what, because it brings us, the audience, into contact with the various guilds of magicians and sorcerers who command The Continent’s destiny, but Chalotra manages to elevate every scene she’s in and make Yennefer our eyes and ears in the show’s most obviously fantastical subplot. She doesn’t get as many fight scenes, but those that she does have (especially in the finale) are epic. Freya Allen portrays Princess Cirilla, or “Ciri”, of Cintra, a stubborn and resilient young girl who is forced to flee from her grandmother’s sheltered palace after the walls are breached by invaders from the shadow lands of Nilfgaard. Alone, and surrounded by people who want to kill her, Ciri sets out into the wilderness with only a name to guide her: the name of Geralt of Rivia, who is supposedly destined to help her. Allen is very good, and possesses a cheerfully expressive face, but her character is rather enigmatic, even by the end of the season, making it ever so slightly more difficult to relate to her in the same way as the older, wiser Yennefer.

The series is structured as something of an anthology, so many of the supporting cast only make a handful of appearances – but even so, there are several highlights. Jodhi May as Ciri’s grandmother Queen Calanthe is a complex and divisive character who is alternately loved, respected, feared or hated – and her unpredictability keeps her friends and enemies on their toes at all times. Anna Shaffer’s Triss Marigold is the show’s most traditionally “witchy” witch, and does a very good job of it; while Mimi Ndiweni is utterly terrifying as the Nilfgaard mage Fringilla Vigo, a callous, sadistic conqueror. The male cast includes Geralt’s on-and-off traveling companion Jaskier (Joey Batey) who has a surprisingly modern vocabulary and a tendency to very nearly break the fourth wall at times (“There I go again, just delivering exposition” he comments at one point), and daredevil Vilgefortz (Mahesh Jadu), who’s stunts and unique brand of magic are incredibly entertaining to watch.

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At its heart, the show is a cunning blend of subversive fantasy and horror – and the horror elements are particularly strong, mostly because they’re intricately tied up in the world’s magic system. It’s never explained exactly where many of The Continent’s monsters, ghouls and demons come from, but it’s fun enough bracing yourself for the jump-scare moments when they burst from the ground, or from tombs, or lakes, or tall grass, etc, etc. Probably the best of the lot is the demon princess living in a crypt below a Temerian castle that seems to have been pulled straight from a Dracula adaptation (Temeria itself seems to be obviously based on Transylvania), but other highlights include a malevolent shapeshifter that eats children, and a dragon with a peculiar secret – I’m sure Sapkowski’s novels have plenty of material to draw from in the second season, but I wouldn’t mind seeing a Witcher take on the character of Baba Yaga, who I think would fit in perfectly with the assortment of other creatures on the show.

This is a non-spoiler review, so I won’t say too much about the series’ conclusion, or its various twists, turns and surprises – but I can at least assure you that almost all of them are legitimately exciting, and there are a number of storytelling devices employed that shake things up in an intriguing and often suspenseful fashion. Netflix is often criticized for making their original series’ too long, but The Witcher is a perfect length – in fact, by the end of it, you’ll probably be left hungry for more (not to mention angry at Netflix for concluding this first season on a moment that isn’t quite a cliffhanger, but definitely sizzles with palpable tension).

So if you’re looking for a new, dark, twisted fantasy tale, or if you’ve been left disappointed by Game Of Thrones and want to fill the gaping void in your life, try out The Witcher (Thrones fans, in particular, will be pleased to know that the series has many of the former series’ same hallmarks, such as gritty realism and brutal fight scenes, while including things HBO’s long-running fantasy drama never dared to add, such as unmistakable magic). It’s a show that will leave you thrilled, a little scared for your life, and eager to see more of Sapkowski and Hissrich’s world.

Series Rating: 7.9/10

“The Witcher” Final Trailer Review!

The final trailer for Netflix’s new, completely unhinged, absolutely massive dark fantasy epic The Witcher is – all of those things, times ten. But with Star Wars dominating the news cycle and releasing in theaters on the same day as the first season of The Witcher becomes available, will the series be able to find an audience? I think it’s got a strong chance, but it needs to have a hook that will intrigue viewers who haven’t necessarily read a Witcher novel, played a Witcher video game, or ever heard of The Witcher before in their lives. So far, it’s mostly been directing its marketing toward disillusioned Game Of Thrones fans – you want something a little violent, a little dark, a little edgy? This clearly has all of that.

But the final trailer leans more heavily on appealing to fans of the source material, throwing in a bunch of new concepts we really haven’t seen much of in previous trailers and teasers: concepts that don’t mean a whole lot to me, but sound pretty awesome anyway. The focus here is on the “lion cub of Cintra”, Princess Ciri, whose character appears to be the show’s central plot-point – the people of Nilfgaard want her dead, and Geralt of Rivia has been assigned with finding and protecting her. The powerful sorceress, Yennefer of Vengerburg, presumably fits in somehow, but I honestly don’t care what her purpose is – she’s fighting bad guys while wearing a gigantic, heavy fur coat: a skill-set I thought belonged solely to Jon Snow. If we get more of that Yennefer, and less of the Yennefer who just seems to be hanging around at the palace, whispering about death and destruction, then you can count me in. I may be jumping to conclusions, but I think I like what The Witcher is doing with its female characters: they look powerful, strong (in many different ways), and cool. There are also women of color in prominent roles here, something Game Of Thrones never had.

So what’s the hook? Is it Henry Cavill in a platinum-blond wig (I will never stop making fun of that thing, even if it does actually look pretty decent)? Awesome heroines? Magic? Even as the day of Witcher‘s release draws ever closer, I’m still not sure I can identify anything that will be able to pull in non-fantasy fans. Hopefully, this will be a surprise hit, but I’m nervous to make any assumptions yet.

Trailer Rating: 7/10

“The Irishman” Review!

Martin Scorsese insists that you should not watch The Irishman on your phone – if you absolutely cannot find a way to see it in a theater, then, in his opinion, you’re doing something wrong (though he does make an exception if you have a very large iPad). Why? Well, I assume it has something to do with the fact that Martin Scorsese is probably keen on being nominated for an Oscar or two at the 92nd Academy Awards ceremony, and he doesn’t want any voters to be deterred by the idea that his grand masterpiece of mobster cinema is, in any way, shape, or form, a TV movie. After all, this is a historical epic – not something you can watch while you’re just lounging around on the couch. Netflix has had to deal with this image-problem many times before – just this year, in fact, the dramatic Roma was snubbed in a few crucial categories at the Oscars partly because of the fact that, well, it’s not a “real” movie. And for that reason, Scorsese will do everything in his power to make sure Oscar voters and critics get the message: The Irishman is credible, and most importantly, cinematic. It’s the same reason why he’s going around saying that the film would never work as a TV series (the mere suggestion probably made his blood boil), and that a traditional studio would never have greenlit a movie in which the protagonist ends up in a wheelchair at the end (I strongly encourage Scorsese to go watch Rogue One, a Disney movie in which every member of the main cast dies by the end of the film).

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But he doesn’t have to – because The Irishman speaks for itself. It is a cinematic masterpiece (and it would be whether or not it played in theaters, because, no matter how vehemently Scorsese may disagree, cinema is defined simply as “the art or technique of making motion pictures”). It is, perhaps, less timely than other landmark films of 2019, but that’s because its message is timeless. Some films don’t need to be ripped-from-the-headlines commentaries on society in order to be relevant. And so, without intending to, Scorsese has crafted the darker, more atmospheric cousin to the modern superhero movie – an original movie that simply exists to entertain. The Irishman has plenty of messages (don’t distance yourself from the people you love, karma always catches up with you, killing people for a living is probably a bad idea), but none of them are groundbreaking; none of them are even that deep, or thought-provoking. I don’t think The Irishman is going to linger in peoples’ minds because of its themes, or its weighty analysis of the concepts of regret and remorse – it’s going to be memorable because it’s a fun movie to watch. A really fun movie.

And that’s actually the film’s most impressive achievement, because at three and a half hours long, The Irishman really shouldn’t be as entertaining as it is. But in all that epic runtime, I was only bored twice – during the first and last thirty minutes of the movie. The film starts out very slow, and there’s a few jumps in between different parts of the timeline that are difficult to follow at first (you’re supposed to be able to tell when is when with the help of the various stages of de-aging technology on the lead actors’ faces, but, well…we’ll get to that). But after what feels like an eternity of watching Robert De Niro driving a meat delivery-van, the movie abruptly takes off like a bullet – and then it gets good, when Al Pacino arrives onscreen like the divine, ice-cream devouring presence he is (no, literally, he eats a lot of ice-cream in this movie: so much so that he did an interview about it).

Al Pacino is what makes this movie great, and I have no qualms about saying it. Robert De Niro and Joe Pesci are obviously incredible actors, legends of the screen, if you will – but Pacino instills the role of notorious labor union leader Jimmy Hoffa with a fiery charisma.  Just as Robert Pattinson recently infused an otherwise drab medieval drama, The King, with his signature brand of insanity, much to that film’s benefit, Pacino here makes Hoffa larger-than-life, ridiculously charming, and more than slightly terrifying. Hoffa’s quirks, from the ice-cream addiction to his long list of pet peeves (he actually tries to kill someone for wearing shorts to a business meeting), are all exaggerated just enough to make them humorous. Yes, The Irishman is actually an incredibly funny movie – something the film’s marketing campaign ignored, perhaps deliberately. But ignoring it is a disservice to Pacino, who uses those laugh-out-loud moments to make Jimmy Hoffa a truly sympathetic character – one whom we don’t want to see get hurt. It’s not historically accurate, but neither is most of this movie.

The lead character, Frank Sheeran (Robert De Niro), whose real-life testimonials about the disappearance of Jimmy Hoffa are the primary basis for the movie’s plot, has had his reliability questioned many times over the years, and his account of the events of July 30th, 1975 is regarded by many as untrustworthy, to say the least. However, in an effort to preserve the film’s secrets for those who don’t know a thing about the Hoffa case (such as me, before I researched the film’s dubious claims), we’re not going to talk about all the minute details of the disappearance and ensuing investigation – or Sheeran’s even more controversial claim about the JFK assassination. The latter is only briefly touched upon in the film, but is bound to become a major talking point for those who have seen it. As for De Niro’s performance – it’s good. Very good, even. But despite (or perhaps because of) all the stony solemnity and brow-furrowing, he simply didn’t affect me on an emotional level the same way Pacino did. Same with Joe Pesci, who has a sizable role as mob boss Russell Bufalino (though I do admire Pesci’s performance for the way he was able to convey, without a single line of dialogue, when his character wanted somebody killed: just a mere side-eye, and you could immediately tell someone was going to get shot dead).

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All three men – Pacino to a lesser extent than De Niro and Pesci – do have to act around the iffy de-aging technology that attempts to smooth out their faces into weirdly plastic masks for the first half of the movie, and that’s a huge problem that the film’s lighting crew clearly struggled with: thankfully, so much of The Irishman takes place in shadowy Italian restaurants that it’s often too dark to see the de-aged faces – but even in a scene lit by bright daylight, the World War II flashback in which Sheeran is supposed to be in his early twenties, somehow the shadows of De Niro’s helmet manage to hide almost his entire face from the camera.

I could probably ramble on and on about the film’s beautiful cinematography and production design, and the way that each decade of American history was lovingly brought to life (well, except for the early 21st Century, which looks like a lifeless gray wasteland compared to the vivid vitality of the 50’s and 60’s). But I probably can’t explain it better than cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto. I would be shocked if The Irishman doesn’t win in some technical categories at next year’s Oscars – it deserves a lot of wins, except for special effects.

And then, of course, there’s the music. The main theme of the movie actually wore on me after a while, and I was tempted to ignore the score entirely if it weren’t for the absolutely brilliant instrumental piece, entitled Remembrance, that composer Robbie Robertson stuck in the movie’s end-credits (but not even the first half of the credits, where some people might be sticking around to listen: it’s shoved right in the middle, somewhere around the point where they’re thanking the medics and food catering service). I might be so eager to forgive the movie’s faults, just because the payoff, that one end-credits musical composition, is so fantastic.

The Irishman does have faults – I mentioned earlier that it’s not great until Al Pacino shows up. It’s also not great once he leaves the film, with half an hour still to go of everybody basically just sitting around and reminiscing about how great it was when Al Pacino was around. Then we get a little bit of trademark Scorsese bitterness about modernity (there’s a scene late in the run-time where Sheeran is shocked to discover that young people these days don’t even know who Hoffa was). But the vast majority of the movie in between Pacino’s arrival and disappearance is an absolutely enjoyable whirlwind of emotions that I think you won’t want to miss out on.

And, just so you know, it’s perfectly okay to watch The Irishman on your phone. I did, and far from missing out on the film’s cinematic subtleties, I actually loved it. Yes, I might disagree with Martin Scorsese on…virtually everything about the definition of cinema, but that has nothing to do with the fact that he’s a masterful director with a keen eye for carving out a powerful and entertaining story from one of the most convoluted and controversial stories in the history of the American mob.

Movie Rating: 9.5/10

“The King” Movie Review!

In the eyes of history buffs, The King will probably be a decent, if boringly conventional retelling of a fascinating story from the vaults of Medieval history. For fans of Shakespeare, this interpretation of the bard’s work, watered down in the telling, will probably be a bland disappointment. But in my opinion, the movie, while not particularly fresh or exciting, is worth a watch merely for the performances from Timothée Chalamet and Robert Pattinson, accompanied by Nicholas Britell’s beautiful score. And if you find yourself drifting off in the first half of the movie, with its interminable gray color palette, dreary dialogue and half-hearted brutality – simply fast forward to when Pattinson shows up about an hour in, at which point the movie finally sheds some of its solemn trappings, develops a faint splash of color, and actually gets interesting.

The story itself is classic: the brief, tumultuous reign of King Henry V (Timothée Chalamet) of England, who stormed and nearly conquered France in 1415. But with two versions of the story out there – the historical account, and Shakespeare’s heavily fictionalized version – the film goes for the least interesting option: trying to blend the two into one coherent whole, using historical realism to set the scene, but sticking faux-Shakespearean dialogue into the mouths of its actors, who, to their credit, actually make it sound halfway decent – up to a point. Director David Michôd and writer and star Joel Edgerton haven’t made anywhere near enough additions or alterations to the story, and as a result The King often feels like it’s treading on well-worn ground – or rather, sinking in the muddy field of Agincourt, weighed down by plate armor and brooding plot. To put it simply, the movie isn’t particularly fun, and it doesn’t have much room to breathe. But what it lacks in originality of voice, it makes up for with the casting of two stellar performers.

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Chalamet embodies the young king of England with a stone-cold solemnity that sets the tone for the whole movie – the rest of the movie, however, fails to achieve the same balance of neutrality and watchability as Chalamet does consistently. Rather, the movie itself begins to fall away and fade into fog, while Chalamet’s Henry becomes more clearly defined with each passing minute, until, in its closing scenes, he is the only life it has left. And what life he possesses! Typically seen as a dewy-eyed Hollywood heartthrob, Chalamet is here a gaunt, pale figure with leering eyes that disguise a heart longing for peace in his time – he is at times inspiring (as when he rallies his men for battle on the morn of Agincourt, using dialogue that is nowhere near as impressive as the St. Crispin’s Day speech his character utters in Shakespeare’s play but still sounds good because it’s Timothée Chalamet), or terrifying (as when he confronts his dying father in the latter’s bedchamber, ripping the sheets away from the bed, letting the old man shiver and tremble as the life slips from his body). But he is always a commanding presence onscreen, never rivaled by any of his castmates until Pattinson enters the picture, challenging Chalamet’s calm with a startlingly zany performance that turns The King into one of 2019’s most unexpectedly weird movies.

Pattinson, another actor trying to reshape his image in the public conscious, is a terrifying/hysterically funny revelation in his role as the Dauphin of France. Other reviewers are conflicted about his portrayal of the character, saying he ruins the serious nature of the film, or, alternatively, is its one saving grace. A callous, sadistic idiot, the Dauphin somehow manages to seem like an absolutely credible and formidable force even while being an unabashed peacock, strutting about in fancy black armor, laughing like a maniac and grinning dumbly at his own offensive jokes. But while I personally loved Pattinson’s portrayal, I can easily understand why critics can’t decide whether they love him or hate him – his performance is so deliberately exaggerated that it feels like it must be saying something, or attempting to: but what? If he’s merely trying to insult the French, then at least he’s made Shakespeare happy.

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(Something that struck me in Pattinson’s first scene in The King, while he was busy talking about how he wanted to drain Henry’s body of its blood and bury it under a tiny French tree, was how happy I am that he will be soon be the DCEU’s new Batman: immediately after thinking that, Pattinson turned his head in such a way that it almost appeared that he had elf-ears for a fleeting moment – and that, coupled with his long blond wig, impressive eyebrows and sinuous physicality, made me gasp, pause the movie and go on Twitter to express my regret that Pattinson had not been cast as Sauron in Amazon Prime’s upcoming Lord Of The Rings prequel series. I’m sorry I have to bring everything back to LOTR, but this is something that I cannot now unsee and cannot ever forgive Pattinson or Amazon Prime for: just think of the beautiful young Sauron that might have been, gifted with Pattinson’s charismatic craziness! It would have been perfect).

The supporting cast is okay, though the only other standout is Ben Mendelsohn as the aging King Henry IV. Joel Edgerton’s Falstaff is made out to be the film’s Everyman archetype, but the character is boring and lifeless (and Edgerton’s performance is so tired that it’s hard to tell whether his yawns are in-character or not). Then there’s the Archbishop of Canterbury (Andrew Havill), who I feel deserves a dishonorable mention simply because of how insufferably annoying he managed to be in the five minutes of screen time he possessed. As for female characters – there are a grand total of three. Lily Rose-Depp is merely okay in the role of Catherine of Valois, who only appears in the film’s last twenty minutes and has one scene of importance; her performance is most notable for the fact that Catherine claims at the outset that she can’t speak English and then proceeds to do so anyway for the rest of the scene.

The film suffers greatly from its muted color palette, and cinematography that is, for the most part, drab and uninspiring. The sole exception is the scene in which Henry V’s forces besiege the castle of Harfleur, using massive trebuchets to launch flaming missiles over the fortress walls: who doesn’t love a good trebuchet? They’re far more interesting than catapults, in my honest opinion. And filming them in action also allows for plenty of interesting camera-work, as The King proves beyond a doubt. Beyond that, the film has nothing going for it in terms of visual splendor – there just isn’t any. The splash of somber green we get from the field of Agincourt is a brief respite from the damp grays and browns of Merry Old England – but even that is quickly transformed into a melee of upturned mud, and the filth of violence.

For history buffs (myself included) the legendary battle of Agincourt is what will keep you watching until the end of the movie: and it’s teased in a big fashion, with a single line of dialogue delivered by Pattinson’s Dauphin in one of the most hilariously exaggerated French accents you’ll hear outside of a Loony Tunes sketch, guaranteed to make your skin crawl in anticipation of the inevitable – “Let us make famous that field out there, this little village of Agincourt that will forever mark the sight of your callow disgrace.” I’m glad I watched The King for that line alone – and thankfully the ensuing battle delivers exactly what the film needs: it’s brutally epic, chaotic, and realistic. If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to drown in mud, then The King is the film for you!

An additional incentive to watch the movie (beyond mud-drownings) is the score by Nicholas Britell, which is stirring and appropriately ominous.

All in all, did I have fun watching The King? No, not exactly. I don’t think it tells the story of Henry V better than any history book can – certainly not better than Shakespeare (and I don’t typically praise Shakespeare). But I do think it’s worth a watch if you’re a fan of either Chalamet or Pattinson, or want to check out a “highbrow” sampling of their work. Just don’t expect too much from the movie itself – it may be called The King, but its crown belongs firmly to its stars.

Movie Rating: 6.9/10