Crime, Punishment, and Violence in The Tudors

Abstract

That The Tudors opens with an entirely fictional killing of a person who never existed—the assassination of Henry VIII’s supposed uncle—tempts one to focus a discussion of crime, punishment, and violence in the series on the inaccuracies.¹ But one might also see the opening sequence as an early alert from the show’s creators that they are presenting not a work of history but a fiction based only loosely on historical facts, something to be watched for what it is rather than derided for what it is not. Indeed, one should not expect to learn one’s history from a series such as this any more than one expects to pick up useful surgical techniques from a hospital drama. Yet, of course, some people do accept what they see on screen as true; cinema and television have sometimes created or perpetuated myths about the past that have had power in the present.² More generally, others find themselves drawn by shows like this to learn more about history as it happened. As such, I found it both surprising and encouraging how many aspects of The Tudors have some ring of truth. In her review of the series for The Guardian, historian Anne Whitelock suggested that beneath its many and manifest misrepresentations lay a “not inaccurate” presentation of Henry’s court politics.³ The cautious caveat of the negative construction seems suitable here, too: despite (and sometimes precisely because of) its many divergences from the facts, The Tudors offers its viewers a “not inaccurate” portrayal of crime, punishment, and violence in early modern England. The ethics of presenting and viewing such violence as entertainment is another matter, though, arguably made all the more problematic by the series’ creative crossings of the lines between fact and fantasy.