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.
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