The Kid Who Would Be King: Not much future

The Kid Who Would Be King (2019) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG, for dramatic intensity, fantasy action and scary images
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 1.25.19

Although handsomely mounted and well intentioned, this (mostly) gentle British fantasy won’t make much of a ripple in the cinematic pond.

At least, not on our shores.

The Wizard Merlin's younger self (Angus Imrie, center) prepares to enchant the sword
Excalibur, as his young allies — from left, Kaye (Rhianna Dorris), Alex (Louis Ashbourne
Serkis), Bedders (Dean Chaumoo) and Lance (Tom Taylor) — watch expectantly.

British writer/director Joe Cornish’s contemporary, kid-oriented spin on the King Arthur mythos lacks the spunk, snark and momentum that made his big-screen debut — 2011’s Attack the Block — far more satisfying. The dialog here is too relentlessly earnest, the pacing too relaxed; at just north of two hours, this film is at least one faux climax too long.

Cornish definitely didn’t let editors Jonathan Amos and Paul Machliss do their job.

Doctor Who fans will understand when I compare this film to a double-length episode of British TV’s family-friendly companion series, The Sarah Jane Adventures. Same tone, same frequently breathless speeches, same setting in a quaint, vaguely retro British suburbia that likely hasn’t existed for decades (if indeed it ever did).

Young American viewers are apt to find The Kid Who Would Be King too corny, too silly and much too placid: more akin to Hollywood’s feeble Percy Jackson adaptations, than the superior Harry Potter series. Which is a shame, because there’s certainly nothing wrong with Cornish’s approach here; like its central character Merlin, it simply inhabits a time stream of its own.

Alex (Louis Ashbourne Serkis) and best friend Bedders (Dean Chaumoo) are the newest, youngest and smallest students at Dungate Academy middle school, where they’re irresistible targets for older and taller bullies Lance (Tom Taylor) and Kaye (Rhianna Dorris). Alex has grown up with no real memory of his father, who gave the boy a lovingly inscribed book about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table; Alex’s mildly overwhelmed mother (Denise Gough) does her best as the single parent of a precocious, fairly geeky son.

The other three kids apparently have no home lives; we never meet any other parents.

A routine encounter with the thuggish Lance and Kaye leaves Alex dazed — but otherwise unharmed — at the bottom of a civic enhancement construction site. Upon checking his surroundings, lo and behold, he spots a sword thrust into what appears to be a chunk of concrete. Surprise, surprise: He has no trouble pulling it out.

The sword’s release triggers two events: the sudden arrival of a tousled, beanpole lad (Angus Imrie) with a facility for magic spells; and — deep underground — the stirrings of the malevolent Morgana (Rebecca Ferguson).

The tall lad, given to hilariously ornate speeches in olde English, turns out to be the wise mage Merlin. He lives “backwards,” as legend dictates, having grown ever younger over the centuries; even so, he can transform either into his older self (Patrick Stewart) or an owl, amid a sneeze of swirling feathers.

Merlin quickly locates Alex — much to the younger boy’s embarrassment, since he already has enough trouble in school, thank you very much — and warns that Morgana intends to rise alongside her undead minions in three days, with the arrival of a full solar eclipse. Should that occur, she’ll enslave humanity in a charred realm of fire and brimstone, etc., etc., etc.

In a sharply observed nod to current events, Morgana has been gaining strength due to the world’s mounting instability: an increasing number of countries subjugated by ruthless strongmen; the rise of xenophobic nationalism; the abandonment of civility between political parties, and in everyday discourse. And, in turn, her malevolence further spreads this global anxiety by feeding on peoples’ prejudices and fears.

This dangerous downward spiral demands the intervention of a truly gallant and noble soul.

Which Merlin insists is Alex. Who wants nothing to do with such horrors.

Particularly since the chivalric code demands — among other things — that one make allies of one’s enemies. In this case, that means “knighting” Lance and Kaye. They aren’t exactly on board with this stuff and nonsense, even after being threatened by a trio of flaming knights on skeletal horses.

Lance is a particularly nasty, self-centered bully: a role that Taylor handles with a feral viciousness likely to inspire PTSD nightmares in viewers who, back in their own childhoods, suffered at the hands of similar tormenters. Expecting a change of heart in this kid seems increasingly futile, as we wander from the first to the second act, with no end of Lance’s loutish behavior.

Dorris’ Kaye is more of a tag-along opportunist, probably attached to Lance out of the misguided belief that he’s best able to protect her. Dorris “softens” more persuasively as this saga progresses, displaying an emotional shift that reveals genuine concern; even so, she just as quickly reverts to form on occasion, defending Lance’s might-makes-right attitude by insisting, “That’s just the way the world is.”

(Hard to argue with that, looking around these days.)

Chaumoo’s breathlessly enthusiastic Bedders is adorable: a wide-eyed romantic absolutely willing to believe — before it has become obvious — that Alex really has found the true “sword in the stone.” Bedders also is fond of magic tricks, and Chaumoo is quietly, heartbreakingly crushed every time one of his kid-level illusions fails to work.

Imrie is a stitch as Merlin’s hilariously baroque younger self, attempting to make the most of 21st century life. (In a droll touch, he discovers that once-elaborate magic- and strength-enhancing potions now are easy to concoct, because the rare and yucky eye of newt-style ingredients are readily available in fried fast food and sugar-laden sodas.)

Stewart, in turn, brings disheveled dignity to his portrayal of Merlin’s older self. No surprise, he’s also the only actor able to handle the necessary gravitas and solemnity of the script’s dire pronouncements and inspiring oratory.

Young Serkis — son of noted actor, director and performance-capture wizard Andy Serkis — has a lot on his plate, as the “runt kid” who must rise to all manner of challenges, as this story proceeds. Serkis is eminently believable as a plucky underdog willing to risk a beating in order to protect a friend; he also navigates the emotional complexities of a bewildered boy who can’t understand why his father abandoned him, while attempting (and failing) to conceal such feelings from his hovering mother.

But when it comes to the rousing encouragement necessary to properly motivate the likes of Lance and Kaye … well, Serkis puts heart and soul into such moments, but he never quite sells them. Chaumoo’s irrepressible Bedders would have made a better king, with Serkis’ Alex as his Sancho Panza.

Ferguson’s Morgana, alas, is completely underwhelming: nowhere near as scary or sinister as the character needs to be. (Where is Cate Blanchett when we need her?)

The tech credits are solid, and production designer Marcus Rowland delivers equally credible settings that range from Alex’s pop culture-laden bedroom, to Stonehenge and Morgana’s ooky-spooky underground lair. The slick CGI special effects come from Joel Green and Antoine Moulineau, who obviously had fun creating their smoldering skeletal army.

The Kid Who Would Be King is certain to please fantasy fans with modest expectations, but it nonetheless feels like a made-for-TV movie that can’t quite achieve the qualities we expect from big-screen efforts.