Once More Unto The Breach

Another Saturday, another chance to spend some time with Shakespeare.  This week found the author finishing The Hollow Crown series with its final installment, Henry V.  It is generally a great piece of work, providing a fitting end to the series while enticing viewers to delve further on their own.

My first experience with Henry V was during the undergraduate class that included I Henry IV and II Henry IV.  (See previous two weeks' posts.)  At least, that's what the class notes tell me.  Admittedly, much of the discussion has disappeared from memory.  (It was twenty-five years ago, after all.)  At some point during the course--or maybe that was during high school--we also may have watched some of Kenneth Branagh's film version of Henry V.  For some reason, a visual of Branagh dressed as a king comes to mind.

The story line is still familiar due to the 2016 Stratford production, Breath of Kings.  It is a pretty straightforward plot, though--the continuing adventures of King Henry V as he battles with France while continuing to mature as a ruler and leader.  Helping to sort out the plot is a chorus, a Shakespearean addition not present in the first three chapters of the Henriad.  The chorus appears in The Hollow Crown version, voiced by actor John Hurt.  The placement of the voice-over makes sense in a stage production of Henry V.  It is used to open the play apologetically, urging the audience to let their imaginations run wild.  It is impossible to turn "this wooden O" (the Globe Theatre) into a realistic presentation of Agincourt and to play out the tale of Henry, so the audience is asked for patience as the play describes soldiers, battles, and horses "Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth."  For a film version, however, which is not constrained by one location (or a small budget), it does not fit as well.  Such a willing suspension of disbelief is not required for this lavish production.

The film opens at the funeral of Henry V, an additional scene not taken from the source text.  The bulk of the film follows as a flashback, perhaps lending more credence to the idea of the chorus as storyteller.  Tom Hiddleston reprises his role from the previous two chapters.  In the current episode, he has grown to be the mature leader of England.  The tavern fun of his younger days is gone, illustrated only in a passing flashback.  His former tavern friends, Bardolph and Pistol, are now soldiers in his army.

What of Falstaff?  As with Shakespeare's play, there is only the briefest of mentions.  The tavern hostess recounts the sad tale to Bardolph and Pistol.  Tossed aside by his former friend, the King, Sir John sits alone, left to perish from a "fracted" heart.  It is a sad end to one of Shakespeare's greatest characters.

The action in Henry V moves quickly.  Henry's army is victorious in the siege at Harfleur.  Bardolph is caught plundering a church, violating orders from Henry.  The punishment is death by hanging.  There is no room in the King for mercy for his old friend, and we see Henry react to the sight of Bardolph dangling from a tree.  While there might have been some sense of sadness in the King, he covers it well.

As the army awaits the next battle, Henry dresses in a cloak and mingles incognito among the soldiers.  This spying is reminiscent of his tavern days.  Although the King is a ruler, there is still some of the old fun streak left in him.  It is a stretch to believe that Pistol does not recognize him, though.  An additional interaction with a soldier leads to an exchange of gloves and the promise of future fisticuffs, another bit of comic relief.

The Battle of Agincourt is very well produced for the screen.  Unlike previous battles, the editing is not so quick as to cloud the action.  The depiction is befitting a battle that left thousands dead (on the French side).  Of course, the famous St. Crispin's Day speech is present and well delivered.  Following the battle, Henry re-encounters the soldier who unknowingly had threatened to fight the King.  The humorous interaction leads not to violence but rather to the soldier being given a glove full of gold crowns.

The film drags for the last portion as it turns into a (mercifully) brief love story between Henry and Katherine.  Following the victory at Agincourt, the wooing scene is an anti-climax.  As Henry wins the hand of Katherine, we jump back to the King's funeral and the voice-over by the chorus, who appears in person to close out the film.  Henry V is dead, and infant Henry VI is king.  A teaser is delivered about the reign of Henry VI to come, and the Henriad is concluded.

For a great telling of Richard II, I Henry IV, II Henry IV, and Henry V, one need look no further than The Hollow Crown.  (Certainly avoid Netflix's The King!)  Excellent on all counts, it was (and is) an excellent way to spend a few Saturday afternoons, whether it is a first exposure or a chance to revisit old friends.  It has given the author the incentive to continue into Shakespeare's Henry VI...once libraries are reopened and one can check out videos again.

What to do next Saturday?  Well, that's seven days away, but I have an idea or two.  Until then...

Part II as Part III

The third of the author's Shakespearean Saturdays finds us continuing through The Hollow Crown.  Today's installment:  Henry IV, Part II.  With a title that displays obviously its connection to its predecessor, the film, while enjoyable viewing, shows clearly that it is less a whole story than a continuation of the prior episode.

As I mentioned in last week's post, my experience with the Henriad began in a high school English course.  It continued through my undergraduate years.  During the spring semester of sophomore year, I took a course on Shakespeare, a core requirement but also an area of personal interest.  The portion of the course dedicated to histories included both parts of Henry IV.  While it was a refresher in Part I, it was a first exposure with Part II.  Delving into the further adventures of Sir John Falstaff would not end with the course's required study of the play.  All things in due time, however.

The film version of II Henry IV is not what one might describe as action-packed.  The battle scenes of the predecessor are not here.  In fact, the entire military sequence, such as it is, consists of the ambush by Prince John of Lancaster of the traitors following a sham peace agreement.  We see them hauled off to execution while the members of the departing army are slaughtered.  How is one to feel about this tactic?  An ignominious death to a band of traitors feels wrong, even though their own actions ultimately led to their deaths.  Sympathy for the devils, indeed.

Much of this film is a study of characters.  King Henry IV faces the end of his reign and life.  He questions his actions to gain the throne.  He questions what is to come, namely the succession of his son, Prince Hal.  He battles physical ailments and old age.  It is a wonderful performance by Jeremy Irons that brings all of these conflicts home to the viewer.

Prince Hal faces the next chapter of his own life.  The performance by Tom Hiddleston is masterful.  Following the victory at Shrewsbury, he shows an increased maturity.  He seems to be growing weary of the antics of his former tavern mates, especially Falstaff.  The prospect of the throne waxes, while memories of past bawd wane.  In one scene, Hal and Poins spy on Falstaff from the rafters of the tavern, listening to Falstaff's typical bluster.  It is something one would have seen in I Henry IV.  When the two come crashing down into the room, Hal's response to Falstaff's wind (and Falstaff's subsequent reaction) are clear evidence that the relationship has changed.  In today's parlance, the "bromance" is falling apart.

Later, Hal comes home to the castle to visit his father.  He finds the King asleep in bed, the crown next to him on his pillow.  Hal takes the crown from the sleeping King and heads to the throne, trying out both symbols of regal power.  It is a cross between playacting and perhaps a bit of treasonous behavior--pretending to the throne before it is truly his.  The King awakens and comes crashing in on Hal, who is caught in the act.  (A rhyme to the aforementioned interaction between Hal and Falstaff?)  Hal is able to talk his way out of the incident.  The moment shared by father and son, with the elder passing on advice to the younger, is extremely touching.  (Consider, as contrast, the same interaction between Polonius and Laertes in Hamlet.  The latter encounter often is played without the same sense of sincerity; a directorial decision, perhaps, but Polonius' blatant scheming forces the matter.)  Henry and Hal's moment is brought to an abrupt end as Henry dies in his son's arms.  The Prince is now the King.

Where is Falstaff in all of this?  He's engaged in the same behavior that we found amusing in I Henry IV.  Now, though, it seems more tired and tiresome.  There are tavern misdeeds and general misbehavior.  There is the recruitment of Falstaff's army, if one can call it that, with prospective soldiers named Mouldy, Shadow, Bullcalf, Feeble, and Wart.  With names such as those, how could they possibly rise to honorable service?  Finally, there is the banishment of Falstaff.  When Sir John discovers that his old friend has taken the throne, he heads to the coronation ceremony, sure that he will have a place in the royal court.  He finds himself shunned, tossed aside, and, as the film ends, headed to jail under arrest.  It is a sad end to the rogue.  Could it have been any other result, though?  Has Falstaff so deluded himself that he thinks there could be a role for him in the new regime?  The final scene, a cut-to-black of Simon Russell Beale's Falstaff being led away, is a stark end to the character.

It also brings to an end Part III of The Hollow Crown and another Shakespearean Saturday.  I (and maybe a reader or two?) will look forward to the final chapter next week.

Saturday In The Recliner With Falstaff

Week Two of Shakespearean Saturdays continued the journey through The Hollow Crown.  Today's episode was Henry IV, Part I.  As with last weekend's edition, Richard II, this was a thoroughly enjoyable couple of hours marked by terrific performances and stunning cinematography.

Of the four Shakespearean works comprising The Hollow Crown, this is the one with which I am most familiar.  My first exposure with it goes back to senior year of high school.  One of the English courses that year was a short elective on Shakespeare.  I Henry IV was the history included in the three-play curriculum (one from each column--tragedy, comedy, and history).  It was my introduction to the character of Falstaff, one of The Bard's greatest creations.  It would not be my last scholastic interaction with Sir John, but more on that another time.

Reading a Shakespearean play leaves one to imagine the visual presentation--sets, costumes, casting.  I don't recall if we ever watched the play during that long-ago high school class.  This version of I Henry IV fits perfectly with Shakespeare's words.  Everything about it is entirely believable; the word suits the action and the action, the word.

Jeremy Irons stars in the title role.  He carries a very regal bearing in his performance as the king trying to hold his nation together while barely able to control his own family.  Tom Hiddleston as Hal plays the royal scalawag wonderfully.  At one moment the fun-loving tavern denizen while in the next leading his troops into battle, he captures the balanced personality of Hal.  Joe Armstrong as Hotspur certainly fits the name--a hot head constantly wound tightly.

Special recognition must go to Simon Russell Beale as Falstaff.  He portrays Falstaff grossly without grossly portraying him.  The costume design adds perfectly to Falstaff as a sack-loving mound of flesh.  A larger-than-life Shakespearean creation (in more than one sense), Beale nails the humanity of Falstaff without turning him into self-parody.  It is a joy to watch.

A highlight of the Shakespearean play becomes a highlight of the film:  the tavern scene in which Falstaff plays Hal while Hal plays King Henry.  Hiddleston's impression of Jeremy Irons is a delight.  Watching Falstaff as Hal, I could not help but be reminded of Chris Farley's "Fat Guy in a Little Coat" routine from the film Tommy Boy.  The similarity is striking!  Comedy aside, the scene illustrates the admiration Falstaff and Hal have for each other (which makes what is to come in the next chapter more saddening).

The camera work is well done throughout, especially at the climactic battle of Shrewsbury.  The grey color scheme helps to illustrate the cold enveloping the two armies.  Quick edits lend to the chaotic feel of the battle, although it is at times difficult to see what exactly is happening.  And the mud!  The battleground turns into a foul mess, and it is on full display as troops fall and roll around in the muck.

Early in the film (and play), Hal comments: 

"If all the year were playing holidays, / To sport would be as tedious as to work; / But when they seldom come, they wished-for come, / And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents" (I,ii,198-201).

This line finds special meaning in our present world.  Far too many people find themselves trapped in a perpetual, home-bound "holiday," and work (and sport, for that matter) may be what is wished for.  For others, work has become the daily horror with a holiday as a distant dream.  Hopefully the world will right itself sooner rather than later!

Halfway home in the trip through The Hollow Crown.  I'll look to be back at it next Saturday in the same recliner and with the same Sir John.

Shakespearean Saturday

Once upon a time your author purchased The Hollow Crown on DVD.  I forget exactly when that was; it may have been following a trip to the Stratford Festival to see Breath of Kings, their two-show condensed version of the Henriad (including Richard II).  The DVD set was intended as a rainy day venture.  As it happened, things got in the way (not enough rainy days) and the set was resigned to a shelf and forgotten.

With the situation in the world as it is these days, there is now plenty of free time.  I rediscovered the DVD set and decided there is no better time than the present.  So the plan, at least for the moment, is to spend a month of Saturdays with Shakespeare.  Today became Day 1--Richard II.

Viewing the film brought back memories of the trip to Stratford years ago.  I'll admit that the fine points of the Richard II portion of their production have largely passed.  Of the four plays, it is the one with which I was least familiar.  I guess that statement still holds true.  We never studied Richard II in school at any level, but the other three all appeared at some point in the educational progression.

Lack of formal background aside, the film was a delight to watch.  The acting is top-notch, especially Ben Whishaw as the tile monarch.  It is a complex performance.  Are you supposed to feel sorry for Richard, considering that he brought much of what happens upon himself?  When a "bad guy" dies (oops, spoiler), should you feel bad about it?  Is Henry Bolingbroke, portrayed by Rory Kinnear, really all that honorable?  It's hard to find a single character who is not at times sympathetic and at times repellent.  There, perhaps, is the genius of the work.  The lines between good and bad, dark and light, are incredibly muddied.  Characters wonderfully drawn became characters wonderfully portrayed by the cast.

The technical aspects of the film--set, costumes, cinematography--all resound as well.  While an on-stage production necessarily is constrained by the venue, the film is not.  Gorgeous castle sets are accompanied by terrific wide-screen camera work.  Very little suspension of disbelief is required to get into the mood of the piece; it feels entirely true to its historical period.

Richard II sets the stage quite well for what is to come:  three more films, three more Saturdays.  Hope to be back seven days from now with the next installment!