Harry and Meghan, Netflix, episodes 1-3 review ★★★★★

Does the world need another monarchy vortex? As well as the death of Queen Elizabeth II – reopening the ornate floodgates of royal hysteria – the mild contrarianism of The Crown boiled people’s blood again. Now, barely a month later, Prince Harry and Meghan Markle drop a few more bombshells for their new Netflix docuseries. Aren't we all a bit tired? What about the proper issues? The timing is also rather convenient, as January sees the release of Harry’s new memoir Spare.

But don’t judge too soon. Harry & Meghan provides a fascinating, if transparently biased, study into the royal defectors, away from the armies of words and photographs used to condemn them.


Photo: Netflix

Keeping up with the royals (if you’re so inclined) is often synonymous with reading bombastic headlines, liable to give you a blue-screen migraine. Happily, this six-part documentary is different: it's calmer and it's told from a more sympathetic perspective. Yes, a sentimental piano track plays in sickly fashion in the background and the couple revel in their own lovey-dovey slush (sweet though it is), but they feel genuine… for the most part.

In the first three episodes available at the time of writing, director Liz Garbus (The Handmaid’s Tale) employs little innovation. Each chapter begins with Harry and/or Meghan detailing their lives, then Garbus jumps into the horrors of the UK media before sitting with writers and academics to discuss the historical influences on the couple’s struggles. It’s repetitive and designed for wandering attention spans, but thankfully, Garbus hits a different nuance each time around.

The interviews with ‘H’ and ‘M’ (personal initials that make them sound like Line of Duty villains) project a non-monstrous representation. Episode one examines Prince Harry’s background prior to meeting Meghan, and episode two dives into Meghan’s much more engaging history as a ‘little activist’ and biracial child of divorce (her mother is interviewed; her father, predictably, is not).

The couple describes their meeting via Instagram, their falling in love, and the days leading up to the wedding. Clearly, the aim is to show them as real people with real feelings. They come across favourably, but you should take this with a few pinches of salt. Their company Archewall Productions made the series, so any critical point of view is barred from entry. (‘Doesn’t it make more sense to hear the story from us?’, Megan says at the start.) But considering the amount of content warring against them, a one-sided platform is hardly unjust.


Photo: Netflix

The tabloids come under microscopic scrutiny. As Harry points out, it’s a different world from the one his mother faced. Garbus shows the social media bile thrown mostly at Meghan, revealing nauseating depths of racism and misogyny. This leads to prominent speakers like David Olusoga and Afua Hirsch tracing the origins of those prejudiced practices, going back to the slave trade. These fact bombs are hardly revelatory, but it’s thrilling to watch them reiterated in this context.

Harry and Meghan prove to be more stimulating than most members of their former House. Topical issues are baked into their union: race, gender and the timeless fracas between old and new. Much of the British psychology (regardless of allegiance) is wrapped around the royal family, so any crisis of identity trickles down to their subjects. This makes Harry & Meghan more than propaganda: it's an attempt to understand what Britain is and how it reacts to change.

Episodes 1 to 3 of Harry & Meghan are now available on Netflix.