King Charles III, Written by Mike Bartlett, Directed by Rupert Goold, Almeida Theatre London

How do you tackle a problem like the monarchy? Taking one of Britain’s most notoriously grandiloquent directors, a writer known for sprawling and patchy mediations on modern society, and giving them free reign over the most sensitive and contentious issue at the heart of British democracy initially seems like a terrible idea. Have them produce it in Shakespearean blank verse? Not a good omen.

 

Fortunately, this is a stunningly good piece of theatre.

The premise is reassuringly simple. The Queen is dead, and Charles has finally ascended to the throne. The Prime Minister comes to visit the yet-to-be crowned King to discuss matters of the state. Rather than follow precedent, Charles decides to challenge a new law on the freedom of the press. The resulting constitutional crisis forces Royals, politicians, and citizens alike to question their role and the nature of Britain in the twenty-first century. It is a cerebral, yet accessible, evening that poses challenging questions and leaves them tantalizingly unanswered.

There have been a number of great state-of-the-nation plays over the last decade. Bartlett’s near-masterpiece has a right to be included in that illustrious canon. The play continuously wriggles out of its premise and interrogates myriad elements of modern life. It’s a thrilling dissection of the life that we see all around us.

Bartlett and Goold also ingeniously manage to avoid the crass characterization that could easily plague a play that attempts to look at the Royals. By following Shakespeare’s example and deliberately presenting the characters as the public’s caricatures of these well-known figures, it allows the creative team to question the role of the monarchy and our perception of them. Harry is the drunkard from the Daily Mirror; Kate is Hello’s strong and glamorous woman; and William is the English gentleman portrayed by the Daily Telegraph et al.

Goold has directed this with remarkable restraint; this simplicity makes it all the more arresting. There are some of Goold’s trademarks, such as the choreographed movement and the stunning openings to the first and second halves, which show off his incredible skill. However, the focus is unalterably on Bartlett’s writing. The blank verse is knowingly daft in places, but it produces a grandeur that is befitting for a play of this magnitude.

This shouldn’t work. It does. Very, very well.