‘A Very Royal Scandal’ premiere review
First look at A Very Royal Scandal
Arriving in the chandeliered lower chamber of the Ham Yard Hotel, where I have attended a slew of preview screenings in the past, I sensed this was a far more high-stakes affair.
A blue ‘red’ carpet had been laid on for the press to snap assorted luminaries implicated in A Very Royal Scandal (available to stream from 19 September) as they posed for the cameras. The glittering centrepiece beaming beneath those flashlights though was Emily Maitlis, whose career-defining 2019 Newsnight grilling of Prince Andrew is dramatised in the three-part Prime Video series.
Incidentally, she’s also the executive producer. She cuts a taut but staunch figure encased in a slinky evening dress, and her charisma means she stands out a mile. Maitlis’ central presence dominated the line-up in the post-screening Q&A session, too.

Emily Maitlis at the premiere of A Very Royal Scandal
During the screening
Onstage, her magnetism out-ranks even the actorly stature of Ruth Wilson (who has some pretty big “third-wave feminist” shoes to fill playing Maitlis) and Michael Sheen (whose Prince Andrew swerves from simpleton to sinister without breaking a sweat).
It is proof of the pairs’ acting chops that I did not recognise either onscreen until the credits rolled – supposedly the highest compliment you can bestow upon a thespian. While neither star bears much resemblance to their real-life counterparts, the sneak preview we were afforded suggests both have an admirable crack at inhabiting their roles.
Seated between the combined clout of two household names on one side, and the industry gravitas of writer Jeremy Brock, director Julian Jarrold and executive co-producer Karen Thrussell on the other, Emily Maitlis nonetheless remained the gleaming jewel in a very heavyweight crown. And not simply down to her sparkly dress. Almost all those assembled on the stage relayed their own tale of how over-awed they were when meeting Maitlis for the first time, if not downright intimidated by her journalistic might.
But Ruth humanises her subject somewhat during the Q&A by revealing that the former national news anchor scoffs Percy Pigs non-stop on the sly. We are teased with further glimpses of a more relatable Maitlis in the first episode, in the form of the frazzled and fallible “family woman” behind the Newsnight titan. One who guzzles her vodka nightcap with gusto, grapples with dog crap, gets chastised by BBC bigwigs for rolling her eyes during Brexit coverage, and rails against the Daily Mail. She even frets about which shoes to wear for her face-off with HRH ‒ whether to pump for feminist spike heels or more demure “Royalist” courts.
Read more: quiz – how well do you know your royal history!?
Bringing history to the screen
It feels apt to mention her attire this evening. The first episode features a wry scene in which Maitlis’ prospective interview outfit is planned in strategic detail – and, of course, in a manner and context that would never have been the case had Prince Andrew’s interrogator been a man. But, as the script recounts, Prince Andrew’s people were determined that he be interviewed by a woman. It’s “all about the optics”, as ever.
And not just any woman. In a scene that elicited gasps from the audience and actors alike, Prince Andrew meets with Maitlis for a pre-interview vetting and asks her abruptly if she has ever been abused herself.
We may only have been privy to a preview of the first episode, but such scenes go some way to setting up what promises to be an acute and astute examination of the tension between the monarchy and the media. This simmering dynamic has played out ever since QE2 was forced to kow-tow to the latter’s power for the first time in the original High Noon style stand-off with the British press following Princess Diana’s death in 1997.
…how on earth Prince Andrew could have thought “telling his truth” was a wise idea
The dialogue explores how on earth Prince Andrew could have thought “telling his truth” was a wise idea, given the circumstances, and points to his enduring privilege as the answer. Although answers are nowhere to be found in this version of events, it would seem. At least, not according to Michael Sheen.
Sheen praises Brock’s script for offering up more questions than explanations, and cites this uneasy ambiguity as key to its appeal. He goes on to divulge that he made up his own mind about Andrew’s culpability and proceeded to do different takes of crucial scenes. The Welsh star switched between playing the Duke of York as indeed guilty of sexual crimes against a minor, and depicting a maligned but ultimately benign man innocent of the allegations against him.
Sheen doesn’t share his private verdict on the Prince during the interviews, and insists it should be left to viewers to make up their own minds. Whether the rest of the series is mired in a similarly murky coyness remains to be seen. When quizzed, executive producer Karen Thrussell candidly attributes any narrative opacity to a “legal nightmare” rather than mere stylistic device or moral squeamishness. “It was fine to talk about the King wanting to become a tampon, though.”
The Q&A scandal
Speaking of moral squeamishness, it seems Maitlis has no truck with such qualms. At several points, the Q&A compere appears to ask whether Maitlis herself feels any remorse for her actions in the aftermath of probing Prince Andrew.
When met with initial bewilderment, the host presses the broader question of whether journalists should feel a sense of accountability for any adverse impact on their interview subjects.
At first somewhat flummoxed, Maitlis’ brow briefly furrows. For a fleeting moment she seems mildly riled, before shifting to rightful dismissiveness. “I don’t really think about it in that way,” she finally says. “That isn’t part of my job.”

Whatever the fallout from Randy Andy’s moment of reckoning with Emily Maitlis, his feelings (and those of his family) are not her responsibility. Nor should they be. Perhaps some of the seedier elements of the British press should face certain ethical questions about the effects of their approach on innocent parties caught up in such coverage. But just watching the first instalment of A Very Royal Scandal is reminder enough that few are more deserving of media scrutiny than the seedier elements of the British establishment itself.
I put it to my Plus One in the pub afterwards that, in its purest form, journalism is potentially among the noblest of professions ‒ when harnessed to hold the powerful to account. As one interviewer put it to another during the Q&A: “This is why we become journalists.” And why A Very Royal Scandal is potentially one worth getting caught up in.
A Very Royal Scandal streaming on Amazon Prime from 19 September 2024

Vivienne recently returned home to the East London riviera, spending her days working as an editor on Fleet Street and her evenings attending free screenings. A perennial crazy cat lady currently without a cat, she is ready, willing and more than able – when not stalking Silver’s own emotional support pug, Alice – to pet-sit in exchange for a chance to escape the Big Smoke.


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