Wednesday, November 15, 2017
319 - Chimes at Midnight, Spain, Switzerland, 1965. Dir. Orson Welles.
John Falstaff is a pothead.
No, he does not smoke marijuana. He wears a pot on his head. For a crown.
He is the king of his domain.
His domain is the Boar's Head Tavern.
His subjects are mountebanks and rapscallions.
His duty is indulgence and excess.
At least they know how to have a good time.
His best friend is Prince Hal, son of King Henry IV. King Henry IV has recently taken over the throne after the death of Richard II. The throne was expected to go to Edmund Mortimer, but Mortimer is in prison in Wales.
Mortimer's cousin Northumberland demands Henry release Mortimer, but Henry refuses. Why release the man who threatens his crown?
So Northumberland and fellow cousin Worcester vow to fight Henry to defend Mortimer's claim to the throne, and Henry vows to fight back to defend his own.
Northumberland has his own son Henry, Harry Hotspur, and our Henry wishes his Harry Hal were more like Northumberland's Harry.
Two days ago we saw how Iago wanted to trade wife for wife with Othello. Today we see how Henry IV wants to trade son for son with Northumberland.
But this wish is more an expression of frustration. Henry sees how Hotspur is growing up to be a fine and responsible prince, while his own son Hal wastes his days in revelry with that king of bad influence, John Falstaff. Henry worries that Falstaff will be the ruin of his son.
Falstaff knows of Henry's worry, and that is why he puts a pot upon his head. To mock him.
Falstaff's show is the triumph of the Boar's Head Tavern.
All the people love a good laugh. And there is no laughter quite so satisfying as mocking authority. Whether it be deserved or not.
Hal takes part in all these revelries. The drinking. The gaming. The whoring. The petty theft. And yes, the mocking of his own father.
Yet when he is alone with his father he assures him that when the time comes he will rise up and take his place as a brave and noble Prince. That he will forsake his past and forsake his bad friends, somehow miraculously without his good manners being corrupted.
Then comes the battle.
And Harry Percy faces off against Harry the Prince of Wales.
Somehow, miraculously, Harry keeps his promise.
He wins the battle. He kills the other Harry, pretender to the throne. He secures his father's place and his own future.
And the transformation begins.
Imagine King David skipping his apprenticeship as a shepherd, skipping his time as a writer, singer, and player of songs by the meadowbrook, skipping his time as a troubadour in the court of the king, giving all his youth to revelry, indulgence, and mockery. Imagine that Bathsheba was not a one-time event in his mature years but a daily way of life in his youth. Then imagine that, upon his defeat of Goliath, he suddenly transforms into the great king he was meant to become.
That is the miracle of Hal, Harry, who will one day become Henry V.
And Falstaff will pay the price for it.
His bosom buddy, his brother in arms, his adopted son figure, his closest friend will deny him, will deny he ever knew him, as he turns from the freedoms of youth to the responsibilities of maturity, to the duties of the monarchy, to a man who carries the weight of a nation upon his shoulders.
My king! My Jove! I speak to thee, my heart.
I know thee not, old man. Fall to thy prayers.
I know thee not, old man.
Harry, the new King Henry V, looks at Falstaff without recognition and denies that he ever knew him.
He is obedient to his duty. To his position. To his throne. But his childhood friend and father figure, his daily companion, is betrayed. Stabbed in the back. Knifed in the heart.
Orson Welles aspired his whole life to play this role. He went to six sources, beginning with Shakespeare's source, Hollingshed's Chronicles, as well as Richard II, Henry IV Part 1, Henry IV Part 2, Henry V, and The Merry Wives of Windsor.
He looks the part.
And once again, we discover another Orson Welles masterpiece and continue our awakening to his genius.
He was far more than Citizen Kane after all.
No comments:
Post a Comment