The Last Kingdom: Seven Kings Must Die Review

Set mostly in England, back before it was officially called England — and centuries before Great Britain did not yet exist during the reign of James I — director Ed Bazalgette's workmanlike historical epic "The Last Kingdom: Seven Kings Must Die" wraps up the events of "The Last Kingdom," the Netflix drama series based on Bernard Cornwell's "Saxon Tales" novels. Playing like "Game of Thrones" with more history and fewer dragons, the film opens with several smaller kingdoms, including Northumbria, Mercia, and East Anglia, gearing up for a power struggle exacerbated by the recent death of Alfred the Great, king of Wessex, and worsened by the covert attempts of the Danes to sow discord.

The hero of the hour is Uhtred (Alexander Dreymon), a young Saxon and the protagonist of the TV series, who fans will know was raised by Danes after a Danish attack wiped out most of his family — before he relocated to Wessex to work for the aforementioned Alfred. None of this backstory is necessary for newcomers to understand that Uhtred is a good guy, happy to respect religious and cultural differences in the name of peace.

Starting life on the BBC before transitioning to Netflix in the third of its five seasons, the series punchy alumni list includes Matthew Macfadyen, Ian Hart, and Rutger Hauer ("Blade Runner"). Still, it's fair to say that later seasons and this new film favor rising stars over veterans. The relative obscurity of the events in question — at least compared to, say, "The Crown" — is quite helpful in this respect: If you want to cast handsome young things as rival royal brothers Aethelstan (born c. 894) and Aelfweard (born c. 902), you aren't going to find too many people popping up on Twitter pointing out the real Aethelstan didn't exactly look like that.

Of the ensemble newcomers in this installment, it's the same old story: The Devil has the best tunes, with the two standout roles both villainous. As the pagan Danish warrior king Anlaf, Finnish-Swedish star Pekka Strang ("Tom of Finland") is probably the best performer of the bunch, though it's a shame the material doesn't give him more to play with. Meanwhile, on the Christian side, Laurie Davidson fares better here as an untrustworthy advisor to the would-be king than he (and pretty much everyone else) did in Tom Hooper's "Cats."

This movie is unlikely to captivate a wide audience beyond its current fanbase. However, "Lord of the Rings" acolytes may get a kick from seeing its dramatizations of various historical inspirations for J.R.R. Tolkien's extensive world-building. Certainly, in his eventual bid to unite various smaller kingdoms of men in a massive climactic fight against a common enemy, Aethelstan (whose name means "noble stone") is a possible historical inspiration for Aragorn (who the deep nerds will recall is also referred to as "elf stone"). There are plenty of similar parallels to be drawn.

Where "Seven Kings Must Die" is most interesting, however, is in its approach to religion, sexuality, and culture. While it's tempting to see our current era as unprecedented in its social blending of diverse faiths and identities, early medieval England gives contemporary Western society a run for its money in this respect. The dominant conflict is between Christianity and Pagan religions. Still, even within these factions, myriad approaches are presented here: We see some characters acting with genuine faith in their beliefs and others manipulating belief to political and social ends. Plus, ça change, as nobody in England until at least 1066 would have said.

This interest in the parallels between the present day and events taking place over a thousand years ago is evident in several production flourishes, including the approach to onscreen place names: We see the location for a scene spelled out in the appropriate local language before the letters rearrange themselves into its modern English appellation. (Wintanceaster becomes Winchester, and so on.) There are occasional onscreen excerpts from surviving Anglo-Saxon literature (the epic poem "The Battle of Brunanburh" is both dramatized and quoted). At the same time, I shall not spoil an unexpected location-based formal gambit in the final moments.