However, a gradual change is noticeable in the King's demeanour, beginning with an acute abdominal pain. George becomes even more erratic than usual, irritable with those around him and liable to spit out an obscenity at any moment. In short, he's become difficult to handle and, because he's the King, no one can tell him what to do (especially not his newly appointed personal servant Greville (Rupert Graves)). Such irrationality is of grave concern to the current Government, headed by Pitt (Julian Wadham), since they rely on the King to remain in power (even as they'd like to do away with him). If the monarchy is seen to lose its command then Fox (Jim Carter) and his bunch of ruffians will take over - aided by the Prince of Wales. It's a delicate political balance, hence a trio of pompous doctors are quietly called in, each with their own peculiar medical fascination. Unfortunately nobody realises that the King isn't actually mad (merely ill), so the Prince is easily able to make his lunge for the throne.

Now at the mercy of what are effectively his captors, George is placed on a strict regime of humiliation and degradation. The full barbaric weight of medicine is brought to bear upon the stricken figure of the King, adding to the misery of his own loss of bodily control. In the background, political shenanigans are occurring, with the Prince seeking to influence the swell of opinion to his favour. Being granted regency could be his prize, much to the despair of the Queen (who is denied even access to her husband). When the King fails to respond to "treatment", the combined royal-political crisis grows ever more powerful. As a last resort, a self-taught surgeon recommended by Lady Pembroke (Amanda Donohoe) is brought in by Pitt. If Dr. Willis (Ian Holm), an exceptionally wilful and rigid physician, can't help then the future is indeed bleak for the beleaguered King (and his Government).

The story laid out in The Madness of King George is truly fascinating, centred on the implications of an illness and the astonishing speed with which the vultures descended. The edifice of state rests upon the possession of power and, just like today, critical change occurs when the King (or other leader) is seen to fail (rather than when he actually does). Thus the film works on two levels, in one way cynically displaying the political and court intrigues, while simultaneously probing the personal struggle of George for both his sanity and his status. Although the script has been greatly reduced from the original theatrical version, it retains both the essential meat and power of its source. Packed with witty, energetic and cutting dialogue, which never becomes stuffy or over-blown, it's a vigorous journey.

Bringing life to the central character, Hawthorne reprises his stage role with an exemplary performance. Getting to the heart of the King, he covers a huge span of emotion (belligerence to affection) and circumstance (Regent to patient). The deep love that connects George to Charlotte is clear, as is the pain of separation, even when he is in deepest delirium (this bond gives rise to some of the most heartfelt scenes). Mirren has far less screen time than Hawthorne but she does well with her part, as does the good doctor Holm. The battle of wills between subject and monarch is intense, with the physical collapse of the King echoing his actual loss of command. The remaining members of the cast are good (if less sharply defined), but the honours really go to Hawthorne.