In 2019 – two years after her divorce from her former husband Ari Behn – Norway’s Princess Märtha Louise went public with her new partner. To say that Durek Verrett wasn’t what the Norwegian public had in mind would be an understatement: as well as being a Black American man based in Los Angeles, Verrett was also a celebrity shaman who had worked with the likes of Gwyneth Paltrow. The trailer for Rebel Royals: An Unlikely Love Story plays up his wild side and the sense that Märtha Louise was dramatically departing from tradition by dating – and later marrying – him. But, really, this Netflix documentary shows that they have a tremendous amount in common. Märtha Louise may be a princess but she is, to use a trendy word, incredibly “crunchy” – a woman who was communicating with angels and teaching energy healing way back in 2007. The pair are convinced that they met in a past life. And by the time we see them flogging their wedding pictures to a glossy magazine, it’s clear that their connection transcends the spiritual realm and extends to the financial one, too.
Rebel Royals is presented entirely via talking heads – most notably, Märtha Louise and Verrett – giving it little narrative cohesion. Interesting titbits are teased throughout, such as Verrett describing himself as “soul-sexual”, and saying he had previously thought he would end up with a male partner. There is a section on the vile racism he faced in Norway – much of it from online trolls, but not helped by initial silence from his new in-laws. (As Verrett notes, when his father-in-law King Harald did speak out, he was praised by Prince Harry, who was himself embroiled in a race-related row with his family.)
A ‘crunchy’ couple … Märtha Louise and Shaman Durek Verrett in Rebel Royals. Photograph: Courtesy of Netflix
But, really, everything here feels inescapably shallow: a mix of gushing comments from the film’s subjects, alarmist tabloid headlines about Verrett brainwashing Märtha Louise, and questions from the Norwegian media that are left unanswered. Royal expert Tove Taalesen thinks Verrett is “maybe a scam artist”, a claim that isn’t explored. Verrett denies being a scammer or a fraud, and sees any criticism towards him as a form of smear campaign, from a press that “[doesn’t] want a shaman who’s Black and bisexual marrying their princess”. That could well be the case, but the film leaves some blanks when it comes to Verrett’s past. We are told that he sold healing medallions during the Covid pandemic; a headline flashes up describing it as “immoral” but we don’t hear from Verrett himself. Verrett has also been accused of sexual misconduct towards a client, which he denies vehemently, but no questions are put to him here. Instead, we hear a voice note he sent to a friend in 2020, where he describes having “crossed a line” in a healing session by engaging in a sex act, but apparently in a way that was still consensual. “When you have a press that wants to prove to the world that I’m a charlatan, I’m a fake, I’m a conspiracy theorist, I’m evil, I’m dark – you have a very difficult situation,” he adds to camera. The result is, as with many Netflix documentaries de nos jours, a film that feels, if not one-sided, then not exactly brimming with editorial independence.
Conforming to Norwegian society, he says, would make him melt down into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West
As well as Behn’s suicide and the pain endured by Märtha Louise and her three daughters, the other unexpectedly tragic narrative thread here relates to Verrett’s health. We are told that he is undergoing frequent dialysis and is in need of a new kidney, for what would be his second attempt at a transplant. It is, of course, a sad series of events. But given Verrett’s views on modern medicine (in his 2019 book, Spirit Hacking, he described asking hospitalised patients why they “wanted” their cancer, as a form of treatment), it feels like a missed opportunity for him to explain why he believes some illnesses can be cured by shamanic means and others cannot. Instead, he merely takes the opportunity to describe himself as “a wounded healer”. As for that healing, we never get a good look at what Verrett’s shamanism consists of, let alone hearing from a happy customer or two.
To say the people of Norway were stunned would be an understatement … Märtha Louise and Durek Verrett in Rebel Royals. Photograph: Netflix/Courtesy of Netflix
Sometimes, as with the pandemic-era smash Tiger King – with which Rebel Royals shares its director, Rebecca Chaiklin – Netflix manages to have its cake and eat it, retaining the presence of a key quirky figure while also making them the butt of the joke. Here, Verrett is cast in that role: there is a lot of strutting, outfit changes and picky wedding planning. At one point, he pretends to vomit as he considers the unofficial cultural laws of Norwegian society, and his utter aversion to being modest. At another, he wears a jacket with the words “spiritual hustler” on the back, a sartorial choice that calls to mind the time Melania Trump wore a coat emblazoned with the words “I really don’t care, do you?” Conforming to Norwegian society would, he says, cause him to melt down into a pile of goo like the Wicked Witch of the West in The Wizard of Oz.
But there’s only so much madcap humour that can carry you through when everything else feels so flimsy. The closing part of the documentary – at the couple’s wedding in a remote area of Norway – is played for a few final laughs, with Verrett hiding under a sheet so none of the waiting paps can snap a picture before Hello!. It’s funny, but it did make me wonder whether Märtha Louise and Durek Verrett should have cut to the chase and just gone straight to reality TV instead.
Rebel Royals: An Unlikely Love Story is on Netflix now.