It is 1066. We are on a battlefield in black and white. Colour has yet to be invented. “William!” shouts the leader of one army. “Harold!” shouts the leader of the other, creating a Proustian rush of Madge Bishop roaring across Ramsay Street at her husband during the glory days of Neighbours. But I wonder what happens next?
History, that’s what! But to explain the history that is about to happen we must first go back a bit to, a caption informs us, “years earlier”. This is a little after “bygone times”, a bit before “days of yore” and, as it appears that Edward the Confessor (Eddie Marsan, having the time of his life playing the last monarch of the house of Wessex as a religious fanatic) is about to be crowned, probably around 1043. They can’t say that, though, because then people who know their Harolds from their Haralds, instead of just wanting to make jokes about Cnuts and Harthacnuts, will start getting upset about tweaked timelines. As if an eight-part drama from the BBC with CBS is the right place to be looking for detailed understanding of the reshaping of English society the like of which has never been seen before or since, but anyway, on we go! Colour has been invented, by the way. Apparently, it was just a stylistic choice before.
On one side of the Channel lives William (“William!”), Duke of Normandy. He is played by Nikolaj Coster-Waldau (sister-botherer Jaime Lannister in Game of Thrones) and very well, too, despite the decision to have him sport a tiny bristly moustache that makes him look like a 1970s Everydad. Each time we cut across La Manche, I expect to see him herding kids into a Vauxhall Cavalier to get back to the ferry in time. But, instead, he is being summoned across the water to attend Eddie Confessor/Marsan’s coronation because they are first cousins once removed. He is reluctant because weddings of distant relatives are always so boring – though, as it turns out, that is the least of the problems this particular genetic link is going to bring about. But off he trots.
On the other side of the Channel lives Harold (“Harold!”), son of Godwin, Earl of Wessex (Geoff Bell), brother-in-law to Marsan the Confessor (claim to the throne ahoy!), father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife … no, wait, I’ve got my history streams crossed. Go back. Stop after “ahoy!”. OK. He is played by James Norton who, cast essentially as the goodie to Coster-Waldau’s relative baddie, does not have much of interest to do though he gamely gives his best throughout.
King & Conqueror starts slowly and never quite attains escape velocity. Like William confronted with Anglo-Saxon troublemakers when he first lands in England, you have to fight your way through a couple of exposition-heavy episodes before the narrative starts flowing with anything like freedom. This is because the BBC/CBS are aware that, unlike the Tudor period or days of yore, the general public does not have much working knowledge of the era. So, people say things like: “Everything is changing … this is a new age. That’s how important the coronation of someone who is not yet known as Edward the Confessor, but will be, is.”
The meat of the thing comprises machinations and shenanigans mostly courtesy of Ed’s formidable mother Lady Emma, formidably played by Juliet Stevenson, and King Henry of France (Jean-Marc Barr). Alliances, treacheries, sudden sons and heirs, interfering Mercians and Counts of Flanders abound, along with some semi-decent parts for the women playing the prime movers’ wives and sisters. Clémence Poésy brings striking grit to Matilda, the always brilliant Clare Holman gives us Wessex matriarch Gytha (rightly infuriated by every member of her clan as time goes on), and Emma Beecham provides a flinty Edith. Whether this is commercial ahistorical necessity, woke madness or a return to a truth obscured by centuries of revisionism by the patriarchy, I leave you to discuss animatedly among yourselves.
Eventually, eight hours later, we are back on the battlefield, in colour this time. No spoilers but anyone hoping for a sequel starring James Norton as a happily retired earl-king, perhaps solving cosy crimes in a tranquil hamlet west of Lundenwic (London) that nevertheless has a murder rate comparable to 80s Detroit, is doomed to disappointment. Especially if they want him to have two eyes while doing it.
You do feel those eight hours, though. King & Conqueror clearly aims to be a ripping yarn. It is not intended to labour points about power, corruption, sacrifice and venality despite their acute relevance. But it hangs a little too heavy. An earnest undertow runs throughout and prevents it ever becoming the combustible fun it could be. A failure to conquer, you might say.
• King & Conqueror aired on BBC One and is on iPlayer now in the UK. It will air in Australia on SBS later in 2025.
