This
film attempts to be both a light-hearted glimpse of a serious
subject scathed in satire, and a serious study of Georgian
England and its petty government policies. But what it manages to be
instead is a sometimes painful cross between Oscar Wilde and King
Lear. From a historical standpoint, the film stays relatively
close to the facts until the final conclusion. The
opening act gives us a memorable glimpse of the irony of the life of
royals behind the curtain. A harried-looking attendant spitting on
the crown jewels and polishing it on his sleeve. Soldiers
tramping past one of the King's many children, only to have a howl
go up when they knock her wooden horse aside. A bored-looking Prince
of Wales (Rupert Everett) with an inept hairdo, paunchy stomach, and yawn that
swallows his entire face. The royals get into line, along with
several dull-looking chancellors, and argue all the way to
Parliament.
Irony
at its best, and this merely sets the stage for the hour and a half
film that will follow, exploring the ups and downs of palace life.
King George III (Nigel Hawthorne) has just lost the colonies in the Revolutionary War,
and the "United States" are now a thorn in his side. He
loathes that they lost that great, untamed land to the Americans and
forbids the subject to be spoken of. His eldest son and heir, the
Prince of Wales, is yet another prick to his tempter, for he desires
the "pudgy boy" to be married. Despite this, he and his
wife (Helen Mirren) are happy... albeit concerned with some of his violent stomach
aches. Increasingly, good old George begins to act more and more
peculiar... he looses his temper easily, is prone to fits of lunacy, and starts a brawl with his own son.
Realistically here is where the comedy ends and the satire and a
many uncomfortable moments begin, as he behaves strangely in mixed
company.
Something
isn't quite right. Suddenly he's flirting with the Queen's
Lady-in-Waiting and popping up innuendos. He has fits of
hallucinations and endangers the children. In all appearances he's gone mad and the doctors can do
little to help. When the Prince
learns of this, he immediately begins scheming to see how he might
claim the throne of England. He separates the Queen and King, but
she has an ally in Lady Pembroke, and George has a faithful,
concerned follower in his latest guard, Greville. They're going to need all the help they can find if
they're to convince Parliament that George III is not mad, but
merely ill. And to do that, they must find a cure for this strange
ailment before tragedy strikes the halls of Winsor. It's a battle
between the court and royals, a struggle amongst the commoners and
aristocrats alike. It's a sometimes humorous but more often than not
painful look at the King whose tyranny drove the colonists to
revolt. It's The Madness of King George.
If
there is anything memorable about the film, it's the performances.
Nigel Hawthorne, having sharpened his character of King George by
years on the stage, is a sometimes sporadic, sometimes lovable, and
always pitiable royal, whether he be in a fit of madness running
through the countryside cursing the Colonies, in a moment of sanity
commanding to the Prince, 'Do not be fat, sir! Fight it, what!' or sobbing over some cruel torture devised by his
doctors to draw the fever from his head. He really does give a
heartbreaking performance, heading up an excellent cast. The
costuming and sets are delightfully authentic but at times almost
unbearably silly. Rupert Everett dons the most horrendous wig of the
entire cast, a frizzy, red-tinted concoction that along with his
paunchy stomach give him an almost idiotic presence on-screen. But
despite the performances and wit, the film is a disappointment, made
so by sexual innuendo, a seemingly never-ending obsession with the
king's bodily fluids, and the cruel practices of doctors who have no
idea how to treat this 'madness.' Some of the "antidotes"
they attempted are truly heartbreaking and shatter the king's physical
and mental capabilities. It is only with a clergyman-turned-physician's
cruel but less malicious approach that George begin to improve.
While
there is no actual sexual content on-screen, the film delights in
alluding to things. There is talk that the king would have been more
sane if he'd kept to family tradition and had several mistresses. In
moments of insanity he remarks on, touches, and even once kisses
violently Lady Pembroke, who isn't herself the most innocent woman
in court. Although married (her husband is never seen), she flirts
with the king's soldier in return of a favor for the
Queen. In one scene she comes on to him in the palace corridor.
What happens we don't know, although at least kissing and grouping
were involved. There's
immodesty in dress; the men wear tight breeches and sometimes wander
around in their nightshirts, showing a lot of leg. The women's gowns
are all low. The Prince is seen with a woman in bed, but all they do
is kiss. (We learn later that they were married; although the film
leads us to believe for a time that she was merely a mistress.)
There's some violent content in the restraint of the King
and profanity. One abuse of "Jesus" makes up the
worst of deity-related curses but there's also a half-wit,
half-offensive remark made in church. "Well?" someone asks
the councilor, and he fires back, "I'm praying, g--d--it!"
The
beginning was promising. The early stages were amusing. But by the
time everyone in the castle was remarking on the color of the King's
urine, I was getting annoyed. And by the end, I was grateful for the
closing credits.
THE
MADNESS OF KING GEORGE
Something
isn't quite right. Suddenly he's flirting with the Queen's
Lady-in-Waiting and popping up innuendos. He has fits of
hallucinations and endangers the children. In all appearances he's gone mad and the doctors can do
little to help. When the Prince
learns of this, he immediately begins scheming to see how he might
claim the throne of England. He separates the Queen and King, but
she has an ally in Lady Pembroke, and George has a faithful,
concerned follower in his latest guard, Greville. They're going to need all the help they can find if
they're to convince Parliament that George III is not mad, but
merely ill. And to do that, they must find a cure for this strange
ailment before tragedy strikes the halls of Winsor. It's a battle
between the court and royals, a struggle amongst the commoners and
aristocrats alike. It's a sometimes humorous but more often than not
painful look at the King whose tyranny drove the colonists to
revolt. It's The Madness of King George.
While
there is no actual sexual content on-screen, the film delights in
alluding to things. There is talk that the king would have been more
sane if he'd kept to family tradition and had several mistresses. In
moments of insanity he remarks on, touches, and even once kisses
violently Lady Pembroke, who isn't herself the most innocent woman
in court. Although married (her husband is never seen), she flirts
with the king's soldier in return of a favor for the
Queen. In one scene she comes on to him in the palace corridor.
What happens we don't know, although at least kissing and grouping
were involved. There's
immodesty in dress; the men wear tight breeches and sometimes wander
around in their nightshirts, showing a lot of leg. The women's gowns
are all low. The Prince is seen with a woman in bed, but all they do
is kiss. (We learn later that they were married; although the film
leads us to believe for a time that she was merely a mistress.)
There's some violent content in the restraint of the King
and profanity. One abuse of "Jesus" makes up the
worst of deity-related curses but there's also a half-wit,
half-offensive remark made in church. "Well?" someone asks
the councilor, and he fires back, "I'm praying, g--d--it!"