‘The King’ Is the Perfect Movie for Timothée Chalamet’s Cheekbones

Say what you will about The King, a new period drama debuting on Netflix this Friday, but it is the best Timothée Chalamet‘s cheekbones have ever looked. And for that, I thank director David Michôd profusely.

Michôd clearly knew what he was doing when he cast Chalamet as King Henry V, aka Hal, the young ruler of England who took the throne in 1413 after his father’s death. The real King Henry V’s life was undeniably tragic—and you can read all about his life and death courtesy of Decider’s history expert Meghan O’Keefe—but William Shakespeare’s history plays about King Henry (most famously Henry V) were less about historical accuracy and more about friendship, betrayal, victory, and the cost of war. The King, one of many adaptations of Shakespeare’s history plays, adds an extremely important motif to that list: Oscar-nominated actor Timothée Chalamet is very good looking.

I’m actually not kidding; Chalamet’s beauty is a prominent theme in The King. Therefore if you, like me, have been besotted by Chalamet since 2017’s Call Me By Your Name, you will enjoy The King despite its flaws. I would not be surprised to learn that Michôd, who shares a writing credit with star Joel Edgerton, has Chalamet stan accounts bookmarked, because he delivers scene after scene of thirsty Tumblr gifsets. When we first meet Prince Hal, he’s shirtless and asleep. His long hair has not yet been forced into that unflattering (but era-appropriate) bowl cut. He wears a silver chain around his neck. He looks like a ’70s rockstar waking up from a long night of partying, which, it’s implied, is exactly what he’s been up to. He disapproves of his father’s violence and rejected his life of royalty, preferring to live among the peasants at the local inn. His daily activities, many of which are done shirtless, include: tending to wounded men, having sex with women, and drinking wine with his best friend Falstaff—a comical character invented by Shakespeare, played much more seriously by Edgerton in The King.

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Hal is forced to stop his shirtless fun times after his father dies. Wishing to spare his younger brother Thomas (Dean-Charles Chapman) from inheriting war, he nobly steps up to duel Hotspur (Tom Glynn-Carney) in a visceral, armor-clanging wrestling match. With his victory, unfortunately, comes the crown, and the royal bowl-cut. Yet, somehow, Chalamet pulls that off, too. Michôd again helps by providing the exact right lighting and the exact right makeup to make those cheekbones really pop. There’s even an artfully placed scar on the high point of his left cheek, just to make extra sure your eye is drawn to this perfection. Are those cheekbones powerful enough to bring the bowl-cut back into fashion? Only time will tell. I suppose I ought to mention the actual acting here, too: Chalamet brings just the right blend of mischief, calm, and, eventually, anger to this tragic hero who becomes the man he used to despise.

All that said, if you’re not a Chalamet stan, you might find your attention wandering over the course of The King‘s 180-minute runtime. Shakespeare’s loyalists certainly won’t be happy; in addition to changing many of the characterizations, The King retains almost none of The Bard’s poetry or wit. Instead, it strives for the kind of mainstream, action-heavy entertainment that’s popular in Hollywood right now. Don’t worry about untangling that Shakespearian language—á la film adaptations like Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet or Kenneth Branagh’s Much Ado About Nothing—The King sticks to straightforward, easily understood, if overly dramatic dialogue. The palette is dreary and grim, appropriate for England’s climate but also suitable for napping. It’s a very long episode of Game of Thrones with fewer characters, a simpler plot, and almost no women, save for a few lines for a no-nonsense bartender (Tara Fitzgerald) and Lily-Rose Depp’s brief but excellent appearance as the princess Catherine in the final 15 minutes. The one nod to Shakespeare’s boisterous humor comes in the form of Robert Pattinson doing the absolute most as Hal’s French nemesis, The Dauphin.

Of course, one might argue that appeasing the masses with a Hollywood version of Henry V is actually more Shakespearian than a traditional approach to the text. Whether The King pulls off its mainstream appeal hinges likely depends on the percentage of its audience that is susceptible to Chalamet’s charms; and more importantly, his cheekbones. Michôd bets that number is high, and I think he’s probably right. Consider me suscept-ed.

Watch The King on Netflix