‘Mary & George’ review: 17th century social climbers canoodle their way to power in lush Starz series

My goodness, the stamina these people had.

With all the sexual congress and the stabbings and more sexual congress and the beheadings and more sexual congress and the betrayals and more sexual congress and the maiming, oh the maiming in the Starz limited series “Mary & George,” one can’t help but be impressed by the sheer evil energy of the main characters in this 17th century historical drama.

Based on Benjamin Woodley’s nonfiction 2017 book “The King’s Assassin,” this is the scandalous and salacious and ultimately tragic story of the affair between George Villiers, aka the first duke of Buckingham, and King James VI and I, who was the son of Mary queen of Scots. (There are so many players with so many titles here, a scorecard would have come in handy.)

With a sparkling cast led by Julianne Moore, Nicholas Galitzine and Tony Curran, lush cinematography, gorgeous production design and suitably flowery, double-entendre dialogue, “Mary & George” follows in the footsteps of historical fiction shows such as “Rome” and “The Tudors” and “Vikings.” We know some of the major plot points in these series are rooted in fact — but we also realize that much of this is pure fiction, and the real-life figures probably didn’t have the toned abs, glistening pecs, pearly teeth and gorgeous complexions of the actors portraying them.

There’s history, and then there’s premium cable.

Over the course of seven ribald and violent and ravishingly photographed episodes, “Mary & George” focuses on the reign of James, who was king of England and Ireland as King James I and King of Scotland as James VI. Tony Curran turns in an electric performance as James, portraying him as a charismatic and at times commanding ruler who was also a borderline paranoid personality, prone to drastic mood swings. King James keeps a regular stable of handsome young men who rotate through his bedroom, but he always has a particular favorite — and that’s the cue for Nicholas Galitzine’s George to make his move.

George is the startlingly handsome and cunning son of Julianne Moore’s icy-veined, social-climbing, ruthlessly ambitious Mary Villiers, who will stop at nothing, and I truly do mean nothing, to see her George advance through the ranks of society. Not that we’re sure Mary actually cares about George; whether she truly loves him and will protect him remains a subject of debate throughout. Like everyone else Mary encounters, from potential husbands and lovers to political allies and adversaries, her own children are mere pawns in Mary’s obsessive desire to attain wealth and status, and to keep hidden the buried secrets of her dark and shameful past.

Much of “Mary & George” centers on how various characters use sex as a means of commerce, as a weapon, as a tool of advancement, and even as a way to get close enough to someone to try to murder them. After George maneuvers his way through the ranks of romantic hopefuls and seduces King James, there are moments of true tenderness and affection between them — maybe even love — but just as often, their encounters are almost violent in nature, and riddled with tension. As James grows ever more irrational and trusts no one, we’re never quite sure if George truly loves the king or is simply using him for his increasingly grand ambitions.

So it goes with myriad characters, all of whom are capable of cruel acts of treachery. Nearly everyone is quite awful and most of them are upfront about that, often spewing deliciously horrible verbal bile at rivals — or taking it to the next level, eliminating them via the knife or a poisoned potion.

This is the kind of series that has characters with titles such as the Countess of Somerset and Viscountess Purbeck, not to mention Cupbearer Laurence and Xander the Bookkeeper, and there are times when various subplots take us pretty deep into the weeds, and we just decide to ride it out until we return to the major story lines. In addition to the stellar work by the leads, we get standout performances by Mark O’Halloran as Sir Francis Bacon and Laurie Davison as Robert Carr, Earl of Somerset; Joseph Mawle as Sir Walter Raleigh, and Trine Dyrholm as Queen Anne.

Mostly, though, there’s Julianne Moore. What a performance! Mary is arguably the most vicious and intimidating figure in the entire, sprawling story, yet Moore never shies away from showing us how Mary is often clueless and puts herself in humiliating situations — only to get back on her feet, dust herself off and get back in the game, more tenacious and dangerous than ever. Mary would sell her soul to get what she wants, if only she had a soul in the first place.