The Madness of King George

I originally saw this on stage at the Royal National Theatre in 1992 and then I saw it in the cinema when released as a film. I read a biography of the King recently and the death of Sir Nigel Hawthorne over Christmas prompted me to have another look at this.

I'm still bowled over and this will always be one of my top ten films, Hawthorne was never better and this will stand as the best of his legacy of fine performances.

His portrayal of the King is painfully accurate and largely historically correct in a superb script by Alan Bennett. The King was well educated but not particularly bright and Hawthorne brings his preremptory manner out so well. The scene where the King cross examines the Prime Minister about a minor appointment tells you more than you need to know of the sane man in two minutes.

The descent into madness is subtle at first, and might just be eccentricty but then gets worse and the Government are appalled at how they might lose control to the Opposition if there is a regency declared. The machinations become immense as so much hangs on the King's sanity.

Meanwhile treatment goes ahead and in a superb scene Hytner parodies the Coronation service when the King is strapped to a chair and gagged to Handel's 'Zadok the Priest'. In the Coronation service this music has since 1727 been used when the monarch is ceremonially led to St Edward's chair and is enthroned at the precise moment the choir comes in on the music.

However, the King recovers, though he had separate bouts of subsequent illness before totally losing it (though by then to Alzheimers) in 1811, though he was to live until 1820.

Hawthorne was robbed of an Oscar here in my view. Scriptwriter Bennett, one of our best living playwrights, has a small part as an MP.

THE MADNESS OF KING GEORGE shows us how mad the ruler of England became at some point in time due to an illness doctors knew little about.

How his illness is treated is at the core of this story, when King George III is assigned a doctor (IAN HOLM) to use whatever means are necessary to restore sanity. All the while, court intrigue has everyone in parliament conspiring about appointing a Regent to take over the King's duties. His son, the Prince of Wales (RUPERT EVERETT) is more then willing to replace his father on the throne.

Much of it is played for fine comic effect with many nuances and comic timing in spite of the seriousness of the central character's illness. NIGEL HAWTHORNE recreates his London stage role, playing the part of the mad king to perfection. HELEN MIRREN is highly satisfactory as his wife who wants nothing more than to see him make a complete recovery and RUPERT GRAVES is fine in one of the more low-key roles as one of the King's supportive aids.

As usual in all of these British historical pieces, the settings, costumes, photography, art direction--all are exquisite. The photography is a marvel at suggesting that only candlelight illuminates many of the scenes so that it's like watching a series of fine paintings come to life. Effective use of Handel's music provides solid support throughout.

British King George III has just recently lost his American colonies. At home, he is treated as a cross between a feared dictator, and a petulant child by his handlers. While politically, he is being marginalized and beset by ambitious self promoters on all sides. He is suffering from mental deficiencies, and his doctor is hopeless.

It's a fascinating look at the royal court. Nigel Hawthorne is terrific instilling power and energy in the manic regent. Helen Mirren is Queen Charlotte. Mostly this is great acting from interesting Brit actors. And Ian Holm is funny as the clueless doctor. It's a piece of history rarely shown on film.

A moving exploration of mental illness masquerading as a costume drama. THE MADNESS OF KING GEORGE tells the story of George III, Britain's 'Mad King', whose life was beset by repeated ill health until his son, the Prince Regent, finally ruled in his stead.

This is far from your usual costume drama (something like THE YOUNG VICTORIA), because it's written by and based on a stage play by Alan Bennett, who immediately brings events closer to home. He focuses on characters, personalities and feelings throughout, and isn't so interested in the pomp and splendour that other directors might have favoured. Instead, this is a glorious rebellion put on film, showing with childlike glee the way one man fought back against the social constraints of his era.

Of course, that's not to say that this isn't an authentic-looking film; the costumes are splendid, the locations even more so, and the cast of British thesps are all very good. Nigel Hawthorne, in particular, gives one of his best-remembered performances (he'd played the same role on stage many times, which is why he's so confident in the part).

THE MADNESS OF GEORGE III (called MADNESS OF KING GEORGE in the States because of reported studio concern, probably not apocryphal, that most Americans would wonder why they missed MADNESS I and II) begins with an act of lese majesty, a look behind the scenes as the family and ministers of George III prepare for the ceremony to open Parliament in 1788. We see the confusion of an equerry who has no idea of what his duties are, a royal attendant hurriedly spit on and cuff-polish a jewel on the kingly crown, the boredom of the king's eldest sons who would rather be just about anywhere else than waiting for their father in the chilly anteroom. ("Colder in here than a greyhound's nostril," mutters the Lord Chancellor.) It's a theme that will carry through the entire film. Kingship and royalty are shams, it seems - magic acts that require faith on the part of the audience. A peek behind the curtain of noblesse oblige and it's all likely to fall to pieces.

The story remains fairly true to the facts. Late in 1788, George III is taken by a mysterious illness (lately surmised to be porphyria) that strongly resembles the then-popular conception of madness. Chaos ensues, mainly in the desperate efforts of the Government (headed by William Pitt - Julian Wadham) to hush the whole matter up lest the forces of the Whig Opposition (led by Charles James Fox - Jim Carter) use the power vacuum to place the king's eldest son, the Prince of Wales, at the head of a regency sympathetic to their political cause. But Alan Bennett, who originally wrote the script for the theatre, is wise enough to treat the potentially tragic story as essentially comic even while raising the question of the basic insanity behind all pretensions to royalty. ("Some of my lunatics fancy themselves kings," notes the "mad doctor" who undertakes the case. "But he IS the king. Where shall his fancy take refuge?")

The power of the film radiates from neither history nor comedy but from performances, and Nigel Hawthorne, who sharpened his characterization of George III over months of playing it on stage, dominates a roster of top-notch actors. Whether brow-beating his older children with admonitions of "Do not be fat, Sir! Fight it! Fight it!" or, freed from his self-imposed strictures of kingship by illness, slipping the reins and pawing under the stays of Lady Pembroke (Amanda Donahoe), Hawthorne is both maddeningly and appealingly autocratic. Perhaps his Farmer George, England's prime example of husbandry both in his knowledge of horticulture and in his brood of 15 children, is more sympathetic than the historical personage, but in the end that matters little. It's a superbly nuanced performance.

And he's given able support by Helen Mirren as his faithful Queen Charlotte, who's devoted her life to supporting the man who rescued her from the obscurity of a small Germanic kingdom and married her despite her rather spectacular lack of good looks. Mirren's accent is variable; her etching of Charlotte's desperate groping at every straw in order to see her husband cured is not.

The rest of the cast is impeccable as well. Ian Holm is all steely religious conviction turned to medical practice as Dr. Willis, who undertakes to treat the king. Rupert Everett, despite the double handicap of an obviously false stomach and the silliest wig in the film, does a creditable turn as the Prince of Wales, though the script treats Prinny unfairly, mainly for the comic potential of doing so. Ministers of state and Parliamentarians Wadham, Carter and John Wood handle their lines with a panache and wit that would do credit to any authentic 18th-century gentleman. Some of the best lines go to Wood, who as usual gives his unsurpassable style and timing, as when he growls out in church, "I'm praying, goddammit!"

The costumes are both faithful and sumptuous, the cinematography is luminous and the sets, borrowed at low cost from various castles and colleges, are lovingly handled. Of special note is the music of Handel, adapted so cleverly by George Fenton that one would swear the old boy in the knee breeches wrote the score himself for every scene.