Is Harry & Meghan savvy or shallow? Our critics debate

In the new Netflix series Harry & Meghan, the titular retired royals offer their own perspective on the turbulent years they have shared together. The incidents are familiar — unlikely transatlantic romance, glossy wedding, general tabloid monstrosity, a historically shocking departure — and the scope expands even further, encompassing the modern history of royal media coverage and brutal centuries of British imperial dominance. EW's TV Critics Kristen Baldwin and Darren Franich came to H&M volume 1 from two distinct perspectives: respectively, serious Buckingham affinity and anti-monarchic pedantry. In anticipation of the next three episodes on Thursday, they discuss the highs and lows of this unique act of royal self-documentary.

KRISTEN: First off, a disclosure: I am and always have been 100 percent #TeamHarryAndMeghan. That was me up at 6 a.m. back on May 19, 2018, weeping tears of fairytale joy through their wedding, and swooning with unearned pride when the happy couple debuted their first child, little Archie, a year later.

But I'm also old enough to remember watching Princess Diana's funeral in 1997, and I'll never forget the image of her two boys walking behind the coffin with such solemn composure, though their whole world had just been violently shattered by a pack of paparazzi. So, when Harry and Meghan decided to "step back" from their royal duties in 2020 — after years of vile and blatantly racist abuse aimed at Meghan by the UK media and like-minded social media trolls — it seemed like the sanest possible decision two people in that position could make. Of course, the Duke and Duchess of Sussex likely never planned to disappear from public life. They're savvy enough to know that the media's investiture in their existence would make that impossible, so the duo chose to anchor the next chapter of their lives by turning themselves into a brand, Archewell Inc.

Flash-forward to Dec. 8 and the world premiere of Harry & Meghan, the Netflix docuseries by Liz Garbus (What Happened, Miss Simone?) — and the first TV production to result from the multi-year deal the titular couple signed with the streamer in 2020. The first three hours of the six-part series are a somewhat meandering but generally engaging look at the couple and their relationship: How they met, the early days of their secret courtship, growing up as children of divorce, and their mutual interest in philanthropy. But the soft-focus narrative is juxtaposed with an ominous through-line — that of the "special relationship" between the palace and the UK press. The decades-old arrangement ostensibly trades access for positive coverage — thereby reinforcing the monarchy's high approval ratings — but the reality H&M presents is much darker. "It's like, 'This family is ours to exploit,'" says Harry, explaining the concept of the "royal rota" press pool to Meghan and her friend in episode 3. "'Their trauma is our story, and our narrative to control.'"

Shots fired, as it were. But given the almost giddy racism Meghan faced from the moment her relationship was announced, I'm certainly not going to begrudge their decision to release a polished, six-hour rebuttal. That doesn't mean I didn't find parts of Harry & Meghan a little superfluous (no offense, Meghan's former agent) and didactic. (Does anyone choosing to watch this really need a primer on the importance of the monarchy in British culture?) Still, Darren, volume 1 had a preponderance of effective moments. Harry and William were the first royal offspring to bear the brunt of the modern media's obsession with the palace, and that footage of Diana pleading with a photographer to leave her boys alone during a ski trip does more to explain Harry's distrust of the press than any soundbite could.

And it's admirable, though not surprising, that the couple used their platform to say the quiet part out loud: The monarchy is inextricably connected to Great Britain's colonial past and all the ugliness that comes with it. Episode 3 opens with a clip from Harry and Meghan's first post-engagement interview, as the host asks the couple whether their union will "represent something new for the royal family." Smash cut to archival footage of Queen Elizabeth II parading through the Commonwealth as crowds of Black subjects cheer her motorcade. The third hour of Harry & Meghan does an excellent job mapping the connection between the UK's history and the polarized reaction to Meghan as the first mixed-race member of the royal family. Nor does Harry let himself off the hook for his own unconscious biases, as well as his appalling Nazi costume blunder in 2005. ("It was probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life," he admits. "But I learned from that.")

What stuck with you about volume 1 of Harry & Meghan, Darren? Do you think the duo chose the right way to take control of their narrative?

Netflix The Duke and Duchess of Sussex in 'Harry & Meghan'

DARREN: Well, I agree with Harry & Meghan that the British Royal Family is a thing that should not exist. Or am I misreading the show's message with my own biases? The American revolutionaries get a deservingly ambiguous rap these days, but I believe our Founding Fathers had one indisputably great idea: Get those crowns off my lawn! So while I respect your Windsor wisdom, I respectfully admit I couldn't care less about some ribbon-cutting dynasty across the ocean. The one time in my adult life I've cared about a Royal Anything was 2018, when a fellow Californian deigned to ditch her solid acting gig — on a network called USA! — to become the first duchess this century with obvious personality.

So I think I should be the ideal viewer, Kristen. But volume 1 left me frustrated. I still think it's generous how a millionaire feminist left sunny Los Angeles to rescue a sad redheaded boy from his stuck-up family. And I admire how Prince Harry risked a lifetime of British scorn for his family's emotional health. If their fadeout is happy Santa Barbara days raising beach kids, then hoorah! But the mere existence Harry & Meghan complicates their escape into a brand-building exercise. They left a 19th-century monarchy to join the 21st-century oligarchy, taking Apple and Netflix paychecks, self-monetizing to pay property taxes in an enclave for celebrities too rich for Malibu. In the first episode, they describe themselves like they're pitching a TV series. "This is a great love story," says he. "Talk about a plot twist!" says she.

You're right to praise the show's depiction of the paparazzi plague, and its demolishing portrait of racial toxicity as the air Twitter breathes. It's sweet to hear about the couple's early days off the attention grid — and bizarre to see that fondly-remembered privacy broadcast in their own photos and videos. It's shocking to see Diana begging cameramen to leave her kids alone — though that context makes it weird to see Meghan showing a Diana glamour shot to her own kid. The difference is consent, I know, but this is the project's dissonance: People complain about cameras to cameras.

The best bits of the early episodes are all Meghan-centric, I thought, focused on her own upbringing. I grow tired of British schoolboy reveries, but welcome any in-depth look at the daily life of '90s SoCal teen life. A child of divorce grows up along uncertain racial borderlands, writes angry letters about sexist commercials, and visits her dad on the Married with Children set: Now this is new material! (I also enjoy the evocation of 2010s Toronto as a Hollywood getaway full of pleasant Canadians unobtrusively fanning out over their local basic-cable stars.) This background deserves more than, like, a whistlestop tour of Meghan's old haunts. Whereas the pocket history of the United Kingdom from colonialism to Brexit can't help but feel oddly navel-gazey and even self-serving: The World According to Sussex, or How We Got To Montecito.

How cynical do I sound? I guess it's weird to feel I fundamentally support people who are making my eyes glaze over. In some ways, I worry the central couple doesn't realize just what an honest challenge this project offers Harry's family. Like, my interpretation of embedded royal racism isn't: "My goodness, these people simply must modernize." I recommend ending the Sovereign Fund and demanding Charles pay inheritance tax. (Brits can ignore me, of course, — or note that, while they're busy subsidizing millionaires, we Americans prefer subsidizing billionaires.) That's a third rail even renegade royals won't touch, and it makes Harry & Meghan feel overly manicured.

And still, somehow, it seems to be controversial among people who love controversy! I'm curious, Kristen, since you know much more about this ecosystem than I do, am I underrating just how radical this project is in the context of royal history? And is there anything you're hoping to see explored more in volume 2 — or anything you want less?

KRISTEN: You don't sound cynical, Darren — everything you're saying makes sense. Harry & Meghan absolutely can be viewed as a navel-gazey vanity project, a contradictory streaming treatise about the importance of privacy. I guess my response to that is… What other choice did they have? There was never going to be quiet retreat into the SoCal sunset — or anywhere else — for these two. Whether they decamped to Vancouver, Lesotho, Curacao or Kansas, the rota would (and do) tag along like burrs on a tweed hunting jacket. So, Netflix, Spotify, Apple TV+, Penguin Random House — I'd argue that it's all their way of co-opting the Faustian bargain with the media that Harry was born into, but this time it's one that he and Meghan conceived of and control. Again, it's not like they've got other realistic career options (try as Harry might, bless him).

Based on the trailers for Harry & Meghan volume 2 (dropping Dec. 15), it seems the Duke and Duchess have chosen to backload the series with the pricklier stuff — including accusations of Buckingham Palace openly feeding the press negative stories about Meghan to deflect attention from other family scandals (see: Prince "absolutely no memory of meeting Virginia Giuffre" Andrew).

To paraphrase Rihanna, this is what we came for. Maybe it's my turn to be cynical, but I have no problem believing that Meghan was a convenient and marketable scapegoat for the Firm, especially since — and it pains me to say this, Darren — even an H&M fangirl like myself can find the former Suits star, erm, unlikable at times. There's a moment in episode 2 where Meghan discusses her longtime interest in philanthropy: "When I would do Suits, I would in hiatus go to India, go to Rwanda, and do cause-driven work. That's what I was excited about. I wasn't trying to find the great indie film that was going to get me an Oscar. No, I just wanted to go and volunteer!"

As my eyes were rolling (such tacky Hollywood sanctimony!), I felt a simultaneous pang of guilt. What, exactly, is wrong about this woman speaking frankly about the charitable work that she does — and has been doing since long before she became a royal? Why was I so quick to scoff at an actress touting her altruistic accomplishments, something countless male stars do regularly? Maybe my knee-jerk reaction just proved a key Harry & Meghan point: The Duchess of Sussex makes for an easy punching bag.

Once you add in the egregious racism and the fact that her nightmare in-laws had an entire arm of the media at their disposal, it elevates Harry & Meghan to something more than just famous people complaining about being in the public eye — at least for me. Are you at all intrigued by the promise of a dishier, more pointed volume 2, Darren? Or have you had your fill of H&M?

DARREN: I had a similar moment when Meghan discussed her blog, The Tig, as if it was a feat of entrepreneurial savvy. But honestly, it was no goofier than any other mid-2010s celebri-style side hustle (remember Blake Lively's Preserve, anyone?) and certainly it was powers-of-ten less annoying than the bad tequila famous bros keep shoving down our throats.

"Doesn't it make more sense to hear our story from us?" Meghan asks. I would answer that question "no," but even as a member of the media, I'm not tribal enough to defend the excesses of the U.K. tabloids. Episode 3 in particular makes Meghan's dad seem like a character out of a Nathan Fielder show, posing for ridiculous photos that create fake stories before the revelations about that fakeness leads to more stories. These meta-incidents have paranoid, family-breaking consequences. No surprise these two feel under siege.

Still, the us-vs-them saga portrayed here feels overly simplified. Frequent cuts to social media insults prove invasiveness isn't a media problem, it's a human problem. Someone keeps clicking on those paparazzi photos. I honestly struggle with all the Twitter stuff, Kristen. On one hand, those are awful things to say. On the other hand, anyone famous receives a hundred social media insults a day? On the third hand, who am I to talk about thick skins when I'm still thinking about a nasty comment someone wrote under my Caprica recap in 2010? On the fourth hand, is it weird for multi-millionaires to cherry-pick nasty things non-rich people said about them online as a way to claim victimhood in a time of skyrocketing wealth inequality? On the fifth hand, anyone who says racist things deserves get put on blast. On the sixth hand, anyone who wears a Nazi uniform also deserves to get put on blast — and since there was barely any social media in 2005, shouldn't we bizarrely thank invasive tabloid vermin for giving Harry such a teaching moment?

At one point, Meghan recalls how an angry Hollywood Bowl motorist once called her mother the N-word. It's haunting to hear that, and even more haunting to wonder how much of that casual analog cruelty gets megaphoned into our digital reality. So there's this frustrating paradox underlying any celebrity self-documentary. You get the thrill of direct access — and the suspicion that some truths are being controlled. Harry & Meghan is their party, so it's up them if they don't want to talk about Deal or No Deal. I guess I'm curious to see if the next few episodes take on intra-royal conflict as directly as you're describing. At this point, though, the show leaves me with a strange feeling. I don't want Harry and Meghan to feel like anyone is invading their privacy, so I really think we should all watch something else.

Harry & Meghan volume 1 is streaming now on Netflix.

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