I’m a big fan of the English monarchy. The lifecycle of Britain is absolutely fascinating, and the Tudor dynasty was one of its most colorful.
Deep breathe everybody: King begat Duke, whose illegitimate son, John Beaufort, had a granddaughter, Lady Margaret. By Margaret’s marriage to Edmund Tudor, illegitimate half-brother of King Henry VI, she became royal. After the fall of the House of Lancaster, the Tudors arose. Henry Tudor’s victory on the battlefield against an unpopular King Richard III, brought the former’s family the throne. And from Henry VII came our hero, Henry VIII (I am, I am!)
And exhale!
So, how can you not approach The Tudors with excitement? Henry ruled in a time of young monarchs, an age of utter decadence on display by the only real starlets that history will remember. Europe, in those days, was ruled by spoiled children, most notably Henry and King Francis I of France, who brought their two countries to the brink of war countless times for no reason at all. There’s something very distasteful about Henry VIII, and young Henry was his worst iteration. Of course, none of that’s a secret, and I haven’t learned much of anything new by watching the show. I even did a report in the third grade on the House of Tudor, and I distinctly remember assembling a poster on Henry’s wives.
But Jonathan Rhys Meyers plays Henry so fluidly that I forget all that I already know about the historical figure. Rhys Meyers is King Henry, a child lost in a sea of overwhelming burden and constant fear. His father overthrew a dynasty, and the safety of the Tudor line is far from being established. Rarely have I seen an actor so embrace a role that they become unrecognizable beyond the costume and makeup. The most remarkable of feats? Making a show that walks an historical blueprint exciting and intriguing! This isn’t like Rome, a show I enjoyed a great deal, where history’s merely the backdrop for a tale of mainly fiction. The Tudors is an historical retool, where nine times out of ten, we know what comes next.
Do I fear for Princess Elizabeth, or Mary, and their being cut out of the royal family? No, because I know that inevitably they become Queens. Yet, The Tudors makes me feel the anguish that Mary experiences in the premiere as she’s forced to choose between what her dead mother chose to do in life, and embracing the father who has forsaken her. That is truly impressive.
So, to season three. By this time, Jane Seymour (Annabelle Wallis) has taken her place at court. History tells of the great love that Henry had for Jane; whether that was true or colored by events to come, I shall let you discover. It is, however, significant to note that the rule of Henry was unaffected by Jane’s Catholic leanings; their brief marriage was the beginning of the active push for religious reform in England.
Season three covers some of the most trying of times for Henry: political and religious revolt, instability in his personal life, and the beginning of his many painful physical ailments. The premiere opens with a royal wedding, but by the end, we’ve already watched Henry’s minions, led by Thomas Cromwell (James Frain), destroying countless Catholic orders and abbeys, all across England. When the desecration in the north catches the eye of Robert Aske (Gerard McSorley), the seeds of the “Pilgrimage of Grace” are sown.
At his most tested, will Henry reveal himself to be a man of faith, or a man of the sword? Has he truly cut himself off from his own religion, or was he merely venting anger at having his magisterial powers limited by the Church? The historical question has never been truly answered, but viewing Henry as a “closet” Catholic adds layers to the show and to the character that are truly fascinating.
And for all of his scheming, Henry remains without a male heir. Will that change how he perceives his two daughters? Season two ended so poignantly: Anne Boleyn (Natalie Dormer) watching from her cell in the Tower of London as her father, Thomas (Nick Dunning), is released to freedom. In season three, as Henry’s tested by Jane as to his love for his eldest daughter, Mary, will he impress or disappoint us? Is Henry the ogre whose image has been ingrained in our minds, or can he be the figure that Rhys Meyers at times allows us to glimpse?
I say, let’s find out together. You in?
Clacked by Aryeh S.
on Apr 07, 2009 @ 12:00 EST5EDT
