SERIES REVIEW – The most expensive Hungarian TV series ever made, based on Bán Mór’s historical novels, has burned through a staggering 25.6 billion forints in budget—of which a solid 16 billion came straight from you, dear Hungarian taxpayer. The real question is: was this monumental sum worth it? For the same amount, they could have shot three entire seasons of The Last Kingdom.

But why am I even bringing up The Last Kingdom? Because as I watched the first two episodes of Hunyadi, my mind kept drifting back to this ten-year-old British series. In many ways, the two can be compared. So, let’s put them side by side.

“A brutal attack, and our young hero loses everything…” – Now, where have we seen this before?

Both series start in a strikingly similar fashion. While I haven’t read Bán Mór’s novels, I’m fairly certain they don’t include young János Hunyadi witnessing his parents being slaughtered in a Turkish siege—his father cut down, his mother raped and murdered. This traumatic event is supposed to leave a lasting mark on him, forging him into the legendary Turkish-slayer he will become. Yet, this tired cliché—something we’ve seen countless times before—isn’t counterbalanced by any real depth or originality.

We quickly jump to an adult Hunyadi (played by Gellért Kádár L.), while The Last Kingdom takes its time, showing how Uhtred’s character is shaped by the Viking attack on his father’s stronghold. His entire military career, courtly struggles, and complex relationship with King Alfred stem from these formative experiences. Not only did he lose his family, but he was raised among the very people who destroyed his home. This duality makes Uhtred an endlessly fascinating character—something Hunyadi fails to achieve with its protagonist.

Yes, one could argue that Hunyadi was a real historical figure, whereas Bernard Cornwell’s novels are set in a different era and feature fictionalized events. But this “childhood trauma” opening isn’t just absent from Bán’s books—it’s also historically inaccurate. What we’re left with is a painfully generic introduction that feels like a cheap imitation of The Last Kingdom and other, far better fantasy epics like Conan the Barbarian. Worse still, beyond the obvious narrative convenience (Oh, so that’s why Hunyadi hates the Turks! How original!), this opening adds absolutely nothing meaningful to the series. Meanwhile, Uhtred’s struggles in The Last Kingdom are built upon layers of conflict—his Saxon heritage, his Viking upbringing, his shifting loyalties—all of which make his story leagues more compelling than Hunyadi, which relies on tired tropes and uninspired storytelling.

Lorenzo Lamas Reloaded

And then there’s the acting. If the story wasn’t already enough of an issue, Hunyadi stumbles even harder when it comes to its performances. In many ways, Uhtred of Bebbanburg and János Hunyadi are similar characters. Yet, while Alexander Dreymon imbues Uhtred with nuance and charisma, aided by a vastly superior script, Kádár L. Gellért’s Hunyadi feels as one-dimensional as an ‘80s action hero—think Lorenzo Lamas, but in medieval armor.

The biggest discrepancy is evident in Hunyadi’s relationship with King Sigismund (played by László Gállfy). In The Last Kingdom, Uhtred’s dynamic with King Alfred is complex; they may be at odds, but there’s a deep respect and mutual dependency. Alfred is a layered character with intricate emotions, masterfully portrayed by David Dawson. In contrast, Hunyadi waltzes into a royal meeting, throws severed heads onto the floor like a discount Conan, and instead of immediate execution, he’s merely sent off for more training. Later, King Sigismund’s treatment of Hunyadi becomes outright malicious, despite having ample reason to be grateful. The entire conflict feels forced, unnatural, and unearned by the story’s progression.

Making things worse, Gállfy—though an excellent actor—never quite finds his footing as Sigismund. His performance swings between over-the-top theatrics and bland restraint, failing to capture the gravitas needed for the role. Watching him, one can’t help but think of Dawson’s Alfred, who, with his commanding yet vulnerable portrayal, utterly outclasses anything Hunyadi has to offer.

Even Steven Seagal Could Have Played the Sultan

Many have pointed out the nudity in the series, calling it borderline “soft porn,” but I didn’t find it particularly excessive or out of place. It’s true that many of the female characters “shed their clothes”: among them Franciska Törőcsik as Maria Branković, as well as several beautiful Hungarian actresses in Murad II’s harem. However, this fits the tone of a modern historical drama, and if we only consider the first two episodes, there was just as much sex in Tündérkert—if not more. I’d also note that Franciska Törőcsik might be the one who gets the most out of her character, as she seems to be the least underwritten role in the show.

Another issue is that so far, Murad II, the Ottoman sultan, has done little more than negotiate aggressively (once) and manage his harem, where his biggest concern is whom to sleep with that night and whether his concubines will bear him children. The actor playing Murad, Murathan Muslu, hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to add depth to his character—his acting, facial expressions, and gestures are about as refined as Steven Seagal’s in the ‘90s.

That being said, the series does offer an intriguing look into the world of the harem. There are well-written dialogues and engaging scenes (and I’m not necessarily referring to the nudity) featuring the harem women, providing an interesting glimpse into this highly secretive world. Whether it’s historically accurate is another question, but then again, this is still a costume drama, so I didn’t expect too much realism in that regard.

If It’s Battle, Let There Be Battle

Many have praised the battle scenes as a highlight of the series, but the single fight sequence across these two episodes was, frankly, underwhelming. I’m not expecting 300-level carnage, nor the Austerlitz battle from Ridley Scott’s Napoleon or the epic clashes in Kingdom of Heaven, but considering they took 16 billion forints out of taxpayers’ pockets, I was hoping for battle scenes at least on par with those in The Last Kingdom or Vikings.

The battle in the first episode is both clumsily edited and cliché-ridden in execution. I won’t spoil who, but there’s a scene where an important armored character is pulled from a river, and the way it was shot looks incredibly amateurish. Admittedly, the fight scenes aren’t as terrible as in other Hungarian productions, but for a total budget of 25.6 billion forints, I expected far better.

Hunyadi hasn’t blown me away so far. I wouldn’t call it bad—there are solid moments and some decent performances—but the two male leads are weak, and many of the other actors fall into the overly theatrical, unnatural style often seen in Hungarian films. The script is packed with well-worn clichés and elements borrowed from other series. Gellért L. Kádár, the lead actor, told Index (which gave the show a near-perfect 9.6 rating) that “you could really feel the smell of the grimy, filthy Middle Ages.” Perhaps if the creators had focused not just on copying the screenplay of The Last Kingdom but also on its much more immersive medieval aesthetics and battle choreography, they might have actually captured that “grime.”

Instead, what I saw were actors in pristine costumes, with carefully washed hair and neatly trimmed, gleaming beards, delivering exaggerated, theatrical performances in often cliché-ridden scenes. Rather than evoking the “grime of the Middle Ages”—as Gellért L. Kádár claims the series does—the only thing that came to my mind was the 16 billion forints that disappeared into thin air. But of course, to each their own—and to be fair, I’ve only seen the first two episodes. One thing is certain: this is not my The Last Kingdom.

-Gergely Herpai „BadSector”-