The work of William Shakespeare has the unique distinction of being both extremely resonant, inspiring many of the greatest works of art since their inception centuries ago, as well as being heavily saturated to the point where no other artist can attest to have their work more scrutinized and explored. Thus, it takes a lot for a film based on Shakespeare’s work to be impressive, and it normally requires either a unique approach to the story, or execution that works well in bringing these stories to life in a way the stage was never able to. The King is one of the finest adaptations of The Bard’s work, mainly because it embraces both concepts – combining all works of the plays collectively referred to as the Henriad, David Michôd’s film is a beautiful, complex exploration of the intricately human themes the writer conveyed in his work, becoming one of the most astoundingly fascinating works ever taken from the oeuvre of Shakespeare. It is a remarkably complex work (but never a dour one), and a film that is both gorgeous on the visual level and compelling when it comes to the narrative, instantly confirming this as one of the most audacious ventures into the sometimes intimidating world of Shakespearean adaptation. Rich, detailed and extraordinarily thrilling, The King is one of the year’s best films, and proof that sometimes the most compelling and original works come from the most archaic of sources.

We’ve seen this story represented many times before – whether directly, such as in the case of Kenneth Branagh’s masterful Henry V, or Orson Welles’ astoundingly playful approach to the story in Chimes at Midnight (whose characterization of John Falstaff was clearly somewhat of an inspiration to the present film), so we can’t consider The King to be all that original, at least not when it comes to the story it tells. Where the film succeeds is in how it combines the elements of the four Shakespearean plays that constitute the broad epic that seemingly defined his historical work. There have been a few attempts over the past few years to approach Shakespeare less from the increasingly academic viewpoint, and rather from a more gritty and realistic approach (just consider Justin Kurzel’s Macbeth, perhaps the greatest adaptation of the Scottish Play ever produced on film), which seems to be the inspiration for Michôd, whose career has been defined by his raw and intimate explorations of certain crises, historical or contemporary, and the individuals ensnared in these situations. It made him an unconventional choice to adapt Shakespeare, but also one of the most brilliant, as his eye for detail, dedication to prioritizing a story and its characters over the overwrought and intensely studied themes that we all were undoubtedly presented with at some point in adolescence make The King one of the most enduring examples of stripping away the scholastic nature of the stories, and presenting them in the brutality that the work of erudite individuals have unfortunately stripped from the legacy of these stories that are undoubtedly far more fascinating than many would give it credit for.

Adapting Shakespeare, regardless how it is developed into a rite of passage for actors and directors in some capacity, is not a particularly easy task, and Michôd certainly did have his work cut out for him when it came to creating The King. Not working directly from a particular play, but loosely adapting the central themes of the Henriad, the director is clearly intent on finding the very human core of these stories, the empathetic core that Shakespeare was definitely not against (with many of his comedies and tragedies having certain sequences of levity that give it more depth), but which was almost entirely absent in his historical plays, which were defined by their overtly serious approaches, which is understandable in concept, but otherwise not worthwhile when it comes to engaging with new audiences that aren’t necessarily looking for Shakespearean stories, but rather intense character studies brimming with brilliant fight scenes and a sense of intensity mostly reserved for the most frantic of action films. The King is, first and foremost, a quietly fervent exploration of the psychology of a historical character, taking its cue from centuries-old plays in constructing a figure that doesn’t only stand as a faithful (but not restricted) representation of the character, as well as a deeply compelling portrayal of the archetypal Shakesperean hero that doesn’t feel all that much of a departure from what we’d expect, but rather has more depth and nuance than the more plot-driven versions of this story.

Who of us was not transfixed by the astounding breakthrough performance Timothée Chalamet gave in Call Me By Your Name a mere two years ago? In that time, he’s risen from promising upstart to one of the most exciting actors of his generation, taking on a range of roles that oscillate between the mainstream and more independent fare. However, despite his considerable talents, he’s still a young actor trying to find his own unique voice in the contemporary cinematic landscape, and there have been times when he’s been quite disappointing (take his difficulty with Woody Allen’s verbose style in A Rainy Day in New York), and there are certainly relevant concerns that he’s consistently drawing on the same tortured intellectual youth archetype that made him someone notable in the first place. This only makes his performance in The King all that more exciting, as it sees Chalamet considerably departing from his previous style and trying something entirely different, playing a character that benefits from the actor’s youthful intelligence, but also gives him far more to do than we have seen him do over the course of his ascent to fame. Playing the wayward Prince Hal, and then the later conflicted King Henry V, Chalamet has quite a responsibility in bringing life to this character, which is no less intimidating considering its literary and historical source, and how we’ve seen countless interpretations of the character. Yet, he still manages to give one of the most compelling performances of the year, playing the young kind with a combination of bleak despair and extraordinary valiance. The film revolves entirely around Chalamet, and therefore depends on how believable he makes the character – and despite the inherent difficulties that come with the role, there’s not a single false note to be found anywhere in this performance. Should he continue with this pedigree of work, he’s only going to confirm himself as someone who is going to make an indelible impression on cinema as his career progresses.

Besides the astounding work by Chalamet, The King is comprised of some very impressive performances by the supporting cast. Three actors in particular draw attention for their radically different, but all nonetheless excellent work, which contributes to the brilliance of the film as a whole. Sean Harris gives a compelling performance as William Gascoigne, the trusted advisor of the king, who apparently supports him, but clearly has ulterior motives that are initially well-concealed under a veneer of geniality and loyalty, but the truth of his intention can’t be withheld for very long. Joel Edgerton takes on John Falstaff, a character that is normally portrayed as merely comic relief, an exuberant drunkard whose jovial ways are only surpassed by his fierce loyalty to the young man he unintentionally helped raise. Edgerton is a gifted actor, and Falstaff was quite an unexpected role for him, but he does it well enough to prove himself as a truly reliable character actor, who is capable of remarkable empathy, even with a character defined almost entirely by his merriment in previous iterations. Finally, Robert Pattinson once again proves himself to be an actor with gifts unlike any other – liberated from mediocre franchises, and in search of more meaningful work, he is a perpetual presence in the arthouse, constantly giving dynamic performances that require him to transform into various characters, with the roles making great use of his penchant for accents and wonderful physicality that allows him to morph into a variety of different personas. Playing the main antagonist, The Dauphin, Pattinson makes a terrific adversary for the titular character – an omnipotent presence from the start, due to a foreboding gift he sends for the newly-coronated monarch, his third-act entrance is worth the wait. He makes use of every opportunity to portray The Dauphin as less of a malicious villain and more of a petty, pathetic sycophant. It only makes his (quite literal) fall from grace all that more powerful, because Pattinson’s intricate understanding of the character is far more complex than we normally see from these kinds of one-dimensional villains.

Considering some of the astonishing films he has made in the past, we couldn’t expect Michôd’s interpretation of Shakespeare to be anything other than a wonderful technical achievement on its own terms – it’s remarkable enough that he was able to derive a set of astounding performances from his actors, but there’s more to contemporary versions of historical events than just the performances. In every area of this film, Michôd infuses The King with meticulous detail and assembles a crew of seasoned veterans and newcomers alike to bring about the tangible energy that made this one of the richest, powerful films of the year. The cinematography in the film is one of its strongest elements, with Adam Arkapaw capturing everything, from the epic battles to the most intimate moments, with equal beauty – it isn’t at all surprising that he was the director of photography of the aforementioned Macbeth, which proves that he is truly a talent when it comes to adapting these stories to the screen. The music in The King is also quite remarkable, which is a given considering the original score was composed by Nicholas Britell, who has been responsible for some of the most original scores of the past few years. Whether in moments of rumination or in the broad sequences of unhinged action, Britell’s score is always present, contributing to both the magnificent beauty and opulent spectacle that Michôd brings together in the making of this film.

Ultimately, The King is a fantastic piece of filmmaking because it doesn’t try too hard, and rather allows everything to come about naturally. The recreation of Medieval England is gorgeous, but it’s in the approach to the story that makes it so compelling. Taking its cue less from more modern historical films, which are often too reliant on the spectacle than the core of the story, and more from the kind of epics made in previous decades, the film has the sensibilities of an elegant chamber drama, combined with the innovation of modern filmmaking. Essentially, The King is just a coming-of-age story told through the lens of medieval politics, where betrayal and bloody warfare are not only common, it’s often encouraged. Michôd departs from the more rigid qualities normally found in the adaptation of Shakespearan plays, and rather presents us with a more intimate tale of a young man trying to find his own way in a world he doesn’t recognize, in a position he was never prepared for. It’s a gorgeous film, and perhaps the most well-written piece of narrative fiction of the year (the dialogue in this film is simply extraordinary – whether in brief exchanges with undercurrents of subversive humour, or large monologues that have the ability to startle or move even the most cynical of viewers, it’s a masterwork in using language as its own weapon). The film is the rare kind of film that prioritizes the concepts more than anything else, and it pays off in one of the most audacious experiments in period filmmaking of the past few years. David Michôd once again ventures into difficult narrative territory in his exploration of profoundly human themes, and his work here hints towards the fact that the best work of his career is still ahead of him – and anyone who is capable of taking something as intimidating at the Henriad, and turning it into one of the most poignant and intimate character studies of the year warrants immense praise. The subject matter aside, this is one of the most excitingly original films made in this genre, and hopefully audiences will give this terrific and audacious piece of filmmaking a chance, as it definitely deserves it.