The Overlooked Crown: Why 'The King' Deserves a Royal Reappraisal
There’s something deeply frustrating about a film that’s almost universally praised yet remains stubbornly underappreciated. The King, David Michôd’s 2019 adaptation of Shakespeare’s Henriad, is one such gem. Streaming quietly on Netflix, it’s a film that, in my opinion, deserves far more than its current status as a hidden treasure. What makes this particularly fascinating is how it manages to blend Shakespearean grandeur with a gritty, modern sensibility—yet somehow, it’s still not part of the cultural conversation.
A Shakespearean Epic for the Modern Age
Let’s start with the obvious: The King is not your typical Shakespeare adaptation. It’s not stuffy, it’s not distant, and it’s certainly not afraid to get its hands dirty. Timothée Chalamet’s portrayal of Henry V is a masterclass in restraint and intensity. At just 23, Chalamet took on a role that could have easily swallowed him whole, but instead, he delivers a performance that feels both timeless and urgently contemporary. Personally, I think what makes his Henry so compelling is the vulnerability he brings to the character. This isn’t a king born of confidence; it’s a boy thrust into a man’s world, and Chalamet captures that tension beautifully.
What many people don’t realize is how much of a risk this film took. Shakespeare’s language is notoriously difficult to modernize without losing its essence, yet Michôd and his team pull it off seamlessly. The dialogue feels natural, even when it’s steeped in 15th-century poetry. This raises a deeper question: why aren’t more filmmakers willing to take such risks? In an era dominated by franchises and safe bets, The King is a reminder of what cinema can achieve when it dares to be ambitious.
The Ensemble That Could Have Been Legendary
One thing that immediately stands out is the film’s ensemble cast. Robert Pattinson’s Dauphin is a revelation—a far cry from his Twilight days, and proof that he’s one of the most exciting actors working today. Lily-Rose Depp’s Catherine of Valois, though underutilized, brings a quiet strength to the screen. Together, they form a cast that should have been award-season gold. Yet, The King was largely snubbed by major ceremonies.
From my perspective, this oversight speaks to a broader issue in the industry: the tendency to reward flash over substance. The King isn’t a film that screams for attention; it’s one that rewards close viewing. A detail that I find especially interesting is how the film’s combat sequences are choreographed—chaotic, brutal, and utterly devoid of Hollywood glamour. Chalamet’s approach to these scenes, as he’s noted, was about survival, not heroism. This authenticity is rare, and it’s a shame it wasn’t celebrated more widely.
The Netflix Effect: A Blessing and a Curse
Here’s where things get tricky. The King bypassed theaters entirely, debuting directly on Netflix. On one hand, this ensured accessibility—millions of subscribers could discover it without leaving their homes. On the other hand, it robbed the film of the cultural momentum that comes with a theatrical release. If you take a step back and think about it, this is a perfect example of how streaming has changed the way we consume art. Films like The King are no longer events; they’re just another title in an endless scroll.
What this really suggests is that we’re losing something in the shift to streaming. Yes, it’s convenient, but at what cost? A film like The King deserves to be seen on a big screen, with an audience collectively holding its breath during those tense battle scenes. Instead, it’s often watched in the background, half-noticed. This isn’t just a problem for The King—it’s a problem for cinema as a whole.
Historical Accuracy vs. Artistic License
Let’s address the elephant in the room: the film’s historical inaccuracies. Some critics have taken issue with its portrayal of Henry V’s reign, but in my opinion, they’re missing the point. The King isn’t a documentary; it’s an adaptation of Shakespeare’s plays, which themselves take liberties with history. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the film uses those liberties to explore themes of power, legacy, and morality.
If you ask me, the film’s greatest strength is its willingness to prioritize emotional truth over historical precision. Henry V isn’t just a king here; he’s a man grappling with the weight of his crown. That’s a story that resonates across centuries, and it’s one that The King tells with remarkable depth.
Why The King Matters
So, why does this film deserve a reappraisal? Because it’s a rare beast: a thoughtful, beautifully crafted epic that refuses to compromise its vision. It’s a film that demands your attention, rewards your patience, and leaves you thinking long after the credits roll. In a world where blockbuster fatigue is real, The King is a reminder of what cinema can—and should—be.
Personally, I think it’s time we stop treating this film like a hidden gem and start treating it like the crown jewel it is. Stream it, watch it, talk about it. Because if there’s one thing The King teaches us, it’s that even the most overlooked stories can be the most profound.
