The Proto-Incels Who Blew Up Europe: Archduke

"It's a sinister prediction, but I think we may be headed into an era of assassin stories. In the real world, where the arc of the moral universe seems quite content to be lagging its way through injustice, people are taking shots. On an impressively tight turnaround, pop culture is following suit: Netflix just released Death by Lightning (who but fans of the Sondheim and Weidman musical have thought about Charles Guiteau recently? And now we get Matthew Macfadyen playing him? What times!);"

"That it's a deeply tragic life isn't all that surprising - Princip was born in poverty and hunger and, after his brief moment in the world's spotlight, died in prison of tuberculosis at 23. But a great part of what gives Archduke its considerable theatrical oomph is, while heading straight for the tragedy, just how funny it is. Under Darko Tresnjak's confidently broad direction, the play's first act functions as high-speed farce, a desperate clown show of embarrassed, aspiring masculinity."

"In our own dire present - where you can't scroll for 30 seconds without hitting another think piece on the "masculinity crisis," and where online commentators rush to dissect the latest act of explosive male violence - Archduke functions in the model of The Crucible: It uses the past as metaphor. Joseph's play is only about Princip insofar as it's about all the suffering young men now living, hurt and angry, stuck behind screens, infinitely susceptible to any dark voice that offers purpose, validation, meaning."

Pop culture has begun producing more assassin narratives, with Netflix's Death by Lightning and other productions revisiting historical killers and figures. Rajiv Joseph's Archduke reimagines Gavrilo Princip, portraying a poverty-stricken youth whose brief violent act led to long-term tragedy and early death. The play balances broad farce and devastating sorrow: a frenzied, clownish first act gives way after intermission to tightening shadows and anguish. Under Darko Tresnjak's direction, the play uses the past as metaphor for present crises, connecting wounded young masculinity, online isolation, and susceptibility to dark, validating voices that offer purpose through violence.

Read at Vulture