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The Independent UK
The Independent UK
Lifestyle
Nick Hilton

The Winter King review: The costumes look like leftovers from Monty Python and the Holy Grail

ITV

Starter for 10: what links the Latin work of Geoffrey of Monmouth, the Old French writing of Raoul de Houdenc, and the Middle High German poetry of Hartmann von Aue? The answer, of course, is the legend of King Arthur. Indeed, the Arthurian myth links the creative output of an almost endless web of people, from Geoffrey of Monmouth to US director Antoine Fuqua, and now the commissioners at ITV, whose new adaptation of Bernard Cornwell’s The Warlord Chronicles arrives in the form of The Winter King.

Britain, the fifth century. The island’s squabbling tribes, led by King Uther Pendragon (Eddie Marsan), are failing to repel the Saxon threat. When the king’s son and heir dies, needlessly, in battle, the finger of blame falls on his bastard son, Arthur (Iain De Caestecker). “You are the son of a whore,” Uther screams, lashing out at the battle-bruised Arthur. “Coveting, begging and conniving, just like your mother.” And so, Arthur is sent off to an exile recommended by his mentor, Merlin (Nathaniel Martello-White). On his tramp into the wilderness, he encounters a death pit – scores of bodies impaled on giant spikes – where one small voice calls for help. Rescued by Arthur, raised by Merlin, this child will grow up to be Derfel (Stuart Campbell), through whose eyes The Winter King unfolds.

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