Sometime in the middle of the first episode of "Harry & Meghan", when the tears had already started to flow, there is a scene in which Meghan stands in front of a photo of Princess Diana with her son in her arms and whispers to him: "Who is that?
Grandma!
Hi, Grandma!” It's a hard moment to take because it's so intimate you wish your parents had kept it to themselves.
And at the same time you suspect that he is one of the many building blocks that are needed to keep the viewers interested for six episodes.
Anke Schipp
Editor in the "Life" department of the Frankfurter Allgemeine Sunday newspaper.
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When Prince Harry and Duchess Meghan founded their production company Archewell a good two years ago, they announced that they would create content "that informs, but also gives hope".
The content of their first Netflix documentary, which they co-produce, is largely what Harry and Meghan told in their interview with talker Oprah Winfrey: the story of a young couple being devastated by the media and the monarchy threatens to become, frees itself in the end and experiences its happy ending in a distant place, that is, the part that stands for hope.
Overkill of a love story
What can be seen in the first three episodes of "Harry & Meghan" released so far is like the script of a Hollywood film.
Self-made videos, private photos, Whatsapp messages and interview sequences, always accompanied by piano music, illuminate the beginning of Harry and Meghan's relationship, the first months in the palace and the preparations for the wedding down to the smallest corner.
We see a happy couple showing their love in ever new variations, on the sofa, on the kitchen block, in the garden, on the beach and in the photo booth.
The documentary becomes emotional overkill when Meghan presents herself in despair and in tears.
In doing so, she perpetuates her role as a victim, which she obviously hasn't just assumed since meeting Harry: her existence as a child of divorce who writes poems about his loneliness.
Later, it's degrading auditions and, when she's already living in London, her father and half-sister who make life difficult for her.
Quite a lot of problems for a woman who, as her friends, mother, agent, husband and her Suits co-stars repeatedly affirm, is so beautiful, smart, empathetic and responsible that one cannot help but wonder, how the royals could screw it up and let this jewel go.
In the end, that's the problem with the series.
The self-infatuation of the protagonists, the sprawling depiction of their love story, which from now on no longer belongs to them alone but belongs to the whole world, and last but not least those scenes in which they show their children, albeit never fully visible, all draw the viewer in a persistent bad gut feeling that also overshadows those parts of the documentary that are quite interesting.
This includes the descriptions of the goings-on in the British tabloid press and the inadequately processed colonial past of Great Britain, in which the monarchy as governor of the Commonwealth is also involved.
There are strong moments when Harry tells how he too followed an unconscious racism and how he learned to develop an awareness of it.
However, these details are not enough to significantly change the overall impression.
In the end there is one big contradiction in the documentary: Why do the two share so many private moments while constantly complaining about not having had a private life anymore?
And how does Harry intend to keep up the repeatedly stated will to protect his family if he presents them to the public so unfiltered?
What's more, this privileged couple's constant complaints about being famous could be shared by many other people, whether their names are Barack and Michelle Obama, Amal and George Clooney, or Prince William and Princess Kate.
But they've all found a way to protect their privacy and lead largely normal lives away from the spotlight.
Harry and Meghan could have done that too – if they didn't need it to secure their business model.
That, above all, is their tragedy.