Plays &
Players, December 1995/January 1996, James Inverne
In these days of exorbitant ticket prices at the theatre, more and more Shakespeare lovers are enjoying the steady proliferation of the Bard’s work on video. This is usually something of a compromise when set against the glory of a good live performance, but the best filmed Shakespeare can convey most the thrill of actually being there, and the skilled directors often use the medium to portray precisely locations which on stage can only be suggested. However, the quality of work available to buy varies greatly and a degree of informed advice is highly desirable before any unsuspecting buyer spends what can still amount to a fairly hefty sum of money. Therefore, in this series of article, I shall sift through and declare the best and worst of Shakespeare on video, disregarding only those cases whereby the text is so massacred as to be almost unrecognisable. Hence, the dire Peter Greenaway film ‘Prospero’s Book’ – loosely based on ‘The Tempest’ – I will gratefully ignore, and the admirable but very truncated ‘Animated Shakespeare’ edition, an excellent introduction for children and great fun for adults, also escape judgement. You get my drift. This first instalment is dedicated to consideration of: -
The Histories
To the best of my knowledge, there is no available filmed version of either ‘King John’ or ‘Henry VIII’, the BBC Shakespeare versions of each having remained unissued.
Richard II:
Unfortunately, the BBC continue to neglect their wonderful production of this masterpiece which boasts Derek Jacobi in the title role. The only choice, therefore, rests with the English Shakespeare Company in the first of their ‘Wars of the Roses’ cycle, filmed live at the Swansea Grand Theatre in 1989. Michael Pennington’s superb Richard helps to ensure that it is also probably the best – by turns elegant, spiteful, insecure, the humiliation imposed upon him by Bolingbroke (an intense Michael Cronin) finally brings out the humanity in this shattered king. A moving, beautiful performance in a clever production by Michael Bogdanov, which uses costumes to emphasise the nature of the play’s characters, a theme continued as the cycle progresses. Thus, Richard’s monarchy is overthrown by the more modern, more craft politicians in Victorian parliamentary dress.
Highly recommended.
Henry IV Parts One and
Two:
‘Chimes at Midnight’ (1967), an adaptation of both of these plays as well as parts of ‘Henry V’, should really be discounted, but Orson Welles succeeds in providing a remarkably original interpretation himself playing a decidedly unjovial Falstaff – has the scene with Justice Shallow ever been more poignant, even tragic? – and this shadowy piece will not be so easily cast aside. Above all, in an all too rare Shakespearean screen appearance, John Gielgud is a patrician Henry IV. However, for a faithful, near-complete reading of the text, one can turn to the BBC Shakespeare issues. These are dominated by the mighty Henry of Jon Finch and the justly renowned Falstaff of Anthony Quayle. The very traditional production is adeptly directed by David Giles. The ESC version complements the BBC with another strikingly original interpretation. Michael Cronin’s Bolingbroke, although not the equal of Finch, has grown in complexity since assuming the royal mantle, and the sense of frustration is almost tangible as the affairs of state keep him from responding to his son’s cries for attention. As Hal, Pennington demonstrates astounding versatility, initially looking too old for the part in his ripped jeans and T-shirt, but soon convincing by sheer sincerity of emotion. Bogdanov’s direction is again powerful, and he exploits all the humour in the Boars Head scenes. This is seized upon with glee by Barry Stanton’s Falstaff, the antithesis of Welles, a jolly, joking performance, yet he misses some of the part’s depth, so expertly caught by Quayle.
Henry V:
The milestone by which all films of this play are traditionally judged is the 1945 Olivier version, a heroic, and jingoistic telling of Henry’s great victories in France. And on this level, it is excellent. The first act, an affectionate portrayal of a performance in Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre, establishes a sense of claustrophobia, so that the opening out of the work’s context into a world of picture-book castles and green fields is doubly welcome. Olivier’s performance is legendary, and justly so, by far the most charismatic on film. The battle of Agincourt is stunningly realised, with William Walton’s music splendidly evocative. However, audiences are more cynical these days, and next to its rivals the film seems very one-sided. Also, the cuts in this version are very unfortunate – I particularly miss the scene with the traitors, although it has no place in what was intended to serve as wartime propaganda. Kenneth Branagh’s 1989 interpretation is quite the opposite, relentlessly grim, determined to show the grit and agony of war. By and large, it works but supports a serious liability in Branagh’s Henry, whose performance is all generalised emotion and superficial effect. Cleverly, though, he surrounded himself with first-rate actors, of the calibre of Michael Maloney’s strutting Dauphin, Brian Blessed’s fearsome Exeter, and Robert Stephen’s disillusioned Pistol. Paul Scofield conveys years of worry as the French King through gentle understatement in a performance of dignity and gravity, and Derek Jacobi is a thrilling Chorus. Alas, the BBC offering is disappointing. David Gwillim, a fine Hal in the previous parts, has not the stature for the mature Henry. The most consistently satisfying of all of these, although the Olivier remains unique, is Bogdanov. Finding both humour (a crowd of rowdy English yobs, waving a banner with the legend ‘Fuck the French’. Is followed by a member of an impeccably dressed French Court declaring ironically, ‘Thus Come the English’) and the serious overtones in the work, an accomplished cast is spearheaded by Pennington, once again remarkable, with all the hints of severity in this Hal here realised, at times almost frighteningly so. Pennington is by no means unsympathetic, but his fury at the traitors is chilling.
Henry VI, Parts One, Two
and Three:
In these plays the great strength of the ESC cycle comes fully to light, namely the opportunity for characters to gradually grow over several plays, ensuring greater cohesion and a fuller exploration of complex motivations. I wish that the ‘BBC Shakespeare’ would release the rest of their complete history cycle for similar reasons. For Bogdanov, these plays are combined into two parts, ‘The House of Lancaster’ and ‘The House of York’. For once, such drastic reduction actually helps, since the complete texts are uneven and overlong. The company are a thoroughly believable ensemble, with noticeable weakness only in Barry Stanton’s Duke of York, just missing that extra degree of pathos at the character’s demise, and Paul Brennan’s slightly limited Henry VI. Of the rest, June Watson is an effective, if mannered, Margaret, but far too old for the part in the first play, and Clyde Pollitt is a creepy Winchester.
Richard III:
The Olivier film of this play is perhaps the greatest of his three Shakespeare films. His performance is wickedly ingratiating, then terrifying cruel, and he is partnered by Ralph Richardson at his most oily. There are moments that are absolutely classic cinema, such as my personal favourite, the spine-tingling end to the election scene – but if you have not seen it, I will refrain from spoiling the treats in store. Regretfully, Olivier cut entirely the character of Margaret, necessitating for the serious collector the concluding ESC production, and once again it is a pleasure to turn to. However, Andrew Jarvis, dangerously psychotic, does not quite have the full measure of the hunchback and does not even approach the level of understanding displayed by his predecessor. Pennington’s Buckingham is almost as good as Richardson though, and the production hurtles along at breakneck pace without ever seeming forced.
I have an increasing admiration for the ESC’s achievement, which increased upon closer acquaintance. However, I also suggest investing in the Olivier films, and the ‘BBC Henry IVs’. This area of the canon has been well served, and most viewers will be satisfied with all versions of the plays.