Lights. Camera. Thrones? Welcome to the set of “Royal Court,” kombucha girl Brittany Broski’s celebrity interview YouTube show, where “pop culture royalty compete for a spot on [her] trusted council.” Guests complete “trials” dressed in fantasy outfits, while a regally cloaked Ms. Broski asks them a series of often silly, sometimes serious, personal questions in a Texan drawl and secretary-style glasses.
“Royal Court” differs from most interview shows in one distinct way. It’s the only show where the guest has no idea what the next question is. Most interviews follow a similar formula: serious, open-ended questions designed to get good soundbites, sprinkled with the occasional funny question for a little meme virality. “Royal Court” breaks from that formula, allowing for a more honest, funny and engaging interview for both the participants and the audience. Ms. Broski balances hilarity and vulnerability with easy playfulness.
It starts with introductions. Ms. Broski introduces the guest of the week and welcomes them to her realm, or set, and asks them one essential question: Are they ready for the trials set before them? The lights go out, and the guests are flooded with blinding spotlights.
The first trial is the Q&A, where Ms. Broski asks her guests a series of questions based on cultish knowledge of the guest, such as: What was Cole Sprouse doing for the 15 minutes between when his twin brother, Dylan, was born and when he was, or how did then-costar Kristen Stewart’s 13th birthday gift of a turtle change the trajectory of Josh Hutcherson’s life?
Then, the guests give Ms. Broski a gift, like Gashapon capsules from Elijah Wood or a chance to be interviewed “Royal Court” style by Caleb Hearon, giving the guests a chance to talk about an interest or a hobby people might not know about, followed by the Royal Feast. Meals are based on the guest’s background, from traditional Cuban food for Marcello Hernandez to an entire loaf of bread for Ilona Maher.
Next, the hardest trial begins. Guests are tasked to draw a “family crest,” four boxes with prompts for drawings, while Ms. Broski asks them a series of deeper, more serious questions. Can the guests produce a crest worthy of Ms. Broski’s court and provide meaningful answers to her questions? The artistic challenge distracts the guests, giving them less brain power to polish their answers. The result is incredibly honest answers you don’t get in most sit-down interviews, where guests have time to find the right answers, and the occasional iconic surprise, such as Mr. Sprouse, hunched and cackling as he reads the opening lines of a Gulf War fanfiction Ms. Broski once wrote about him. Should the guests pass, they are knighted by Ms. Broski and assigned a role in the realm like lamb midwife (Saoirse Ronan).
Ms. Broski’s energetic interviews find the sweet spot between absurd and honest, enough to make you think about topics like the healing power of community between fits of laughter.
