First Transmitted 25th February 1979
 |
John Stride brings the Merry Monarch to life despite the best efforts of Shakespeare |
Cast: John Stride (Henry VIII), Timothy West (Cardinal
Wolsey), Claire Bloom (Katherine of Aragon), Ronald Pickup (Thomas Cranmer),
Barbara Kellerman (Anne Bullen), Julian Glover (Duke of Buckingham), Peter
Vaughan (Bishop Gardiner), Jeremy Kemp (Duke of Norfolk), Lewis Fiander (Duke
of Suffolk), John Rowe (Thomas Cromwell), John Bailey (Griffith), John
Nettleton (Lord Chamberlain), Nigel Lambert (Sir Thomas Lovell), David Rintoul
(Lord Abergavenny), Oliver Cotton (Earl of Surrey), John Rhys-Davies (Capucius),
John Cater (First Gentlemen), Roger Lloyd-Pack (Second Gentlemen)
Director: Kevin Billington
Everyone seems to believe that Shakespeare wrote a
play about Henry VIII, but there are very few people who seem to have read, let
alone seen, the play – including me. Its plot and themes were a total mystery
to me so, for the first time this series, I sat down to see a play for the
first time rather than watch an interpretation of something I was already
familiar with. Which makes a change from Measure
for Measure which, if anything, I knew too well going into it!
The play itself is an unusual one. For a start, it is
matter of debate about who actually wrote it (no not that stupid Oxford
debate!). The play is believed to be a collaboration between John Fletcher and
Shakespeare (which means Fletcher’s agents should probably have words with the
BBC), with Shakespeare usually given credit for the start of the play, the
second half of Act 2 and parts of Act 3 and 5. Which probably means it is more
a Fletcher play than Shakespeare, though some argue Fletcher was touching up
Shakespeare’s work (notably scholars link most of the good bits with
Shakespeare working with Fletcher and the duller parts as Fletcher alone. Make
of that what you will). Anyway, I’ll call the author Fletchspeare here to make
it easy.
Written either at the end of, or shortly after, the
reign of Elizabeth I, the play offers what we would call today a “sanitised”
version of one of the most turbulent few years of British history. In this play,
Henry is not to blame for: his divorce (instigated by Wolsey), the execution of
any of his lords (who turn on each other) or his relationship with Anne Boleyn
(which happens mostly off-stage). The Reformation is barely mentioned, though
there are dark murmurings of “Popish” corruption around Wolsey and Cranmer is
accused of heresy.
Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn are both presented
sympathetically as loyal and faithful subjects (quite a coup!). Lords conspire
against each other but only Wolsey and Gardiner are really guilty of anything.
The later execution of many of the key figures in the play goes unmentioned and
unhinted at. Fletchspeare is very much aware they were writing about very
recent history to be presented to descendants and relatives of the featured
players. This was not the time for comments as critical of historical figures as
are found in the other history plays.
What an almost totally unknown play does though is to
give a director and production team a clean slate – no worries about people
having their perceptions shaped by other productions. Filmed entirely on
location, including Hever Castle, Leeds Castle and Penhurst Castle, many of
which were directly linked to (or the actual locations of) the action in the
play. In comparison to the ghastly As You
Like It, here the location shooting is expertly managed and of the highest
possible quality, with the camera work and editing complementing the
performances to create a world of courtly intrigue and clashing egos. Lords
prowl down corridors and congregate in corners to whisper bitterness and
conspiracy, the camera catching their breath forming in clouds from their
mouths.
Extensive thought has clearly gone into framing and
camera movements, with lower angles and wider lenses in the court room scenes
allowing the full impact of these Tudor rooms to be felt on camera. By making
such smart work of the location shooting, the pageantry of the play largely
takes care of itself, allowing Billington to push front and centre the
political machinations that fill the play. And he’s right to stress the acting,
because this has one of the finest casts in the series.
In many ways, John Stride has the least interesting of
the three lead roles. Compared to what we have seen in other versions of this
story, the play presents Henry very much as he would have wished to be seen – a
bluff, charming man quick to anger and to forgive with a keen sense of loyalty
and justice. Stride brings this Holbein element of Henry very well to the
screen but also laces his interpretation with subtle shades of a darker
personality. At first Henry seems a dupe, willingly believing Wolsey’s plots.
However, it becomes clear he is a ruthless man not wishing to appear ruthless –
careful cuts to Henry during the trial scene stress his colder nature. At other
points – in particular his treatment of the council and Cranmer in Act 5 – he
seems as cool a manipulator as the Duke in Measure
for Measure. Stride even works in anger and disappointment at the birth of 
Alongside him, Timothy West’s Wolsey is like a venal
company director crossed with an eminence grise, brought low like some shabby
Robert Maxwell by a dodgy embezzlement scheme that he clumsily reveals himself.
West is an exceptional Shakespearean actor and is on top of his game here.
Wolsey, as written, is a small, mean man but West makes him a tragic figure,
struggling to control great events but unable eventually to bend them to his
will. When his power is broken, West moves through confusion, doubt, concern,
fear and acceptance before sharp defiance towards his enemies. His final
speeches have a real sense of nobility about them that West is careful not to
introduce earlier – his Wolsey is a man that finds inner nobility after the
loss of its outer trappings. West was nominated for a BAFTA for his work here
and well deserved it.
Awards should also have found their way to Claire
Bloom, who gives a sublime, poetic reading as Katherine of Aragon, a devout and
holy woman, dutiful to her King and her people. It is clear why her obvious
quality and regal bearing wins such devotees but also why it drives her apart
from her husband. But Bloom also lets us see the grieving, sad woman under the
surface of the pride, particularly in A4 S4 on her deathbed, weeping at the
loss of her child and deeply feeling the pains of her life. The scenes between
Wolsey and Katherine – the strongest written characters in the play – sizzle
and are clear highlights. You end up wishing Fletchspeare had written a lot
more of them.
Away from the three leads, there is really not a weak
link in the cast. Jeremy Kemp’s 
What Billington’s direction does well is subtly present
this play as almost a boardroom drama, full of aggressive alpha male
shareholders pushing their own agenda. This is particularly clear in the
interrogation of Cranmer by the council, but it’s a theme that’s introduced
right from the first scene with three lords conspiring in a corner against
Wolsey, a visual style that is repeated throughout the play. Wolsey even
appears several times at a desk like a Chairman of the Board. Various court
officials carry mounds of paper between meetings. Over all this, Henry presides
like a majority shareholder, allowing himself to be swayed by others as fits
his purposes.
Billington also makes extensive use of triangular shot
arrangements to visually demonstrate these inward looking, conspiratorial
conversations. Characters are frequently framed either between or either side
of other characters in close-up (some examples of this are shown below). The
use of the gentlemen as a type of chorus on the actions also works very well,
with the camera following them via cross cutting and tracking shots,
contrasting nicely with the more careful framing of the lords, to help suggest
their more common backgrounds.
Technically this is certainly the best made of the
films so far, with location shooting actually adding to the impact of the
story. It’s got some of the best acting of the series and is directed with a
great deal of competence (though the move out of the studio setting restricts
certain camera moves seen in the best directed of these films Julius Caesar and Romeo and Juliet). In fact the main thing wrong with this is
Fletchspeare. There are some fine moments and very good lines, but the play
itself is carefully edited, politically-tinged history. It’s a bit like making
a film about Margaret Thatcher and never really mentioning the miners’ strike
(hang on – Hollywood actually did that!).
But then it comes down to what this is. We all know Henry VIII (and several other plays in
the canon) have problems in their writing, structure and development. The
question here is: does this production rise above the limitations of the source
material? And the answer is, in this case, yes it did. It’s a very strong
ending to the first series of Shakespeare plays. And it’s probably the best
production of this play you are ever going to see (if you ever have a chance to
see one).
Conclusion
Despite a weaker script, this is a hugely successful
production – perhaps one of the best so far in the series – that uses wonderful
acting, accomplished technical work and some great acting to create perhaps the
only version of this play that will ever be filmed. If the series was for
nothing else, it was to bring productions like this to life. And West and Bloom
in particular are sensational.
NEXT TIME:
We’re into series two as Anthony Quayle brings Falstaff to life in Henry IV Part 1, kicking off the first
Henriad of the series.
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