Hotspur, Falstaff and Harry England

by William Shakespeare

seen at Shakespeare's Globe on 10 May 2019

The more conventionally named Henry IV Part One, Henry IV Part Two and Henry V have been given alternative titles as a series of 'state-of-the-nation' plays which can be seen independently or, given sufficient stamina, together as today on a 'trilogy day'. The two parts of Henry IV take their alternative titles from characters considered important enough to be named in the expended titles of the original Quarto editions, while the third title reminds us of the intimate connections of Henry V with mythologised ideas about kingship and English greatness as exemplified by this particular warrior king, prompted by his father's advice to distract unhappy citizens from civil unrest by embarking on foreign wars.

The plays, directed by Sarah Bedi and Federay Holmes, are presented by a company of ten actors - five women and five men - joined by Michelle Terry as Hotspur in the first play of the sequence. Sarah Amankwah plays Prince Hal, later King Henry V, in all plays, and takes only one very small doubling part in Falstaff; the others take on all the other roles. In the full texts there are over one hundred parts across all three plays, though there are some cuts in the performance, and given the fluid performance style at the Globe, the changes of role are often signalled by the mere donning of a new cloak and a different posture, sometimes in full view of the audience. During the whole day this rarely led to any confusion from my point of view as a spectator, and only once did an actor definitely address a nobleman by the wrong name in a series of greetings. 

Particularly notable in the first two plays, of course, are the characters of Falstaff, played in a barnstorming performance by Helen Schlesinger and of King Henry IV, played by Philip Arditti as a surprisingly energetic and worldly-wise king (he is more usually played as reserved, troubled and sick, looking forward to his illness at the end of the second part). The high jinks of Prince Hal and the anarchic unruliness of the tavern and Gad's Hill scenes are difficult to manage these days, but the sheer energy of Helen Schlesinger's performance did much to generate the exuberant atmosphere required. The interactions with some of the groundlings worked well, with some clever ad-libbing creating a link with the familiar pantomime tradition of inviting and then dealing with audience responses. The sheer cynicism of Falstaff's corruption (impressing wastrels for his commission in Hotspur and conniving at bribery in the rural muster in Falstaff ) was perhaps skated over, but Falstaff remained as he always should the liveliest of rogues. 

In the meantime the King faced his political troubles at first with pronounced vigour and an almost amused enjoyment of the challenge, making the contrast between Harry Hotspur and his own son Prince Hal almost light-heartedly to mask the genuine anger and anguish. Philip Arditti's was a refreshing and energising interpretation of this often lack-lustre role, which was a suitable foil to the extraordinary volatility of the Percy faction: Michell Terry's Hotspur was a bundle of explosive impatience and self-importance which dominated the stage as his father and uncle vainly try to constrain the impulsive warrior to their own purposes. The contrast between this hothead and the wayward Prince on the battlefield was cleverly done.

In the second play the mood is more reflective, with the curious pathos of reminiscence between Falstaff and Shallow, and the cruel rejection by the newly crowned King of his East Cheap companions, especially of Falstaff himself. The steeliness of the new king is prefigured by his brother's cynical treatment of the rebels, lulled int the idea of a truce and then arrested and executed - the royal brothers are a ruthless pair, as the king himself makes clear in the third play with his appalling threats to the city of Harfleur, and his cold dismissal of the execution of his erstwhile friend Bardolph. The glorious rhetoric of the great battles speeches should not blind us to the brutal realities of medieval warfare. In all this Sarah Amankwah gave a thrilling performance of  youthful enthusiasm as the Prince, increasing gravitas as the warrior champion, and full-blooded determination as the leader of the nation.

The staging, as I mentioned above, was fluid, making full use of the bare stage with a minimum of props - occasionally a throne or a bed, but otherwise little in the way of furniture. The balustrades of the galleries were hung with colourful flags emblazoned with the names of the major nobility or else with the places referred to in the plays, which gave a great sense of engagement with the factions and localities of the two Henry IV plays. For the third play all the banners were replaced by royal banners reminding us that factionalism was totally suspended; the only variation was the presence of fleurs de lys when the action moved to France.

Given the make up of the company, the whole enterprise relied on colour-blind and gender-blind casting. It seemed quite clear from the general audience response that there was little problem in having a dark-skinned and female Prince Hal, nor even a female Falstaff (who seemed to me to have some of the mannerisms of Jennifer Saunders in the deployment of sarcastic asides); but the men playing female parts - in particular Jonathan Broadbent as Hostess Quickly and Colin Hurley as Princess Katherine - raised a knowing laughter again reminiscent of the pantomime dame tradition. While the Hostess could respond to this with withering stares (after all there is plenty of room for double entendre in the tavern scenes), this was quite inappropriate in the two scenes with the Princess. I wonder if only willowy young men can safely take the female parts on the Globe stage if they are meant to be serious characters.