Directed by: David Michôd
Written by: David Michôd and Joel Edgerton
Shakespeare’s plays about the life of English King Henry V receive an updating in this Netflix-produced movie, and you know, I haven’t the foggiest why.
It’s as though the writing team of the suspiciously foreign-sounding David Michôd (jk, he’s actually Australian) and Joel Edgerton sat down and thought, “What’s the one thing nobody remembers about Shakespeare—the language, right?” So they dumped all the flowery verbiage and settled on having the characters say “fuck” every once in a while.
The Saint Crispian Day speech? Well, who really wants to hear one of the most stirring battle speeches ever set down in the English language, right? I mean, look at this fluff:
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.
Who needs that, right? I’d much rather hear the actor who played Tommen in Game of Thrones (Dean-Charles Chapman) say the “f” word.
Revisionism is the order of the day in this retelling, extending not merely to stripping away 90% of the language, but also to major character changes.
The declaration of war upon France by Henry V (a very pale and fey Timothée Chalamet) is portrayed not as a transformation, not a boy learning the brutal necessities of power, but rather an extension of the selfish, impulsive, prickly self-indulgence of his youth. John Falstaff (Joel Edgerton) is no longer boozy has-been put aside as Henry learns responsibility (“I know thee not, old man”), but becomes instead Henry’s sagacious and war-weary councilor, in a move which by pure coincidence gives the movie’s co-writer a far longer and juicier part. The wooing of Catherine of Valois (Lily-Rose Depp) is no longer played for laughs, but instead becomes a chance for Henry to get a reality check when Catherine not only proves completely fluent in English, but also schools Henry on how he has been manipulated into war by the Chief Justice (Sean Harris).
I wish I could praise some of the other elements of the film-making, but honestly after watching things like the “Outlaw King,” this feels like more of the same: Dim interior lighting, faintly silly haircuts and mud. Lots and lots of mud. There is an attempt at grittiness by slathering the combatants in a battle in the stuff, but honestly despite the commanders spending the previous 10 minutes discussing strategy, it’s filmed like a class of 10-year-olds playing rugby. Everybody sort of runs into the middle of the field and falls down. Nobody wears any heraldry, so I can only imagine the horrific slaughter the two sides must have inflicted on their own sides in this chaotic free-for-all.
The only bright spot I could find was Robert Pattinson (of “Twilight” fame, or infamy if you like) as the Dauphin, who clearly thought he was appearing in some kind of Pink Panther style farce. His accent and acting are both so wonderfully over the top, it’s the only pleasure in this otherwise dour and rather lifeless exercise. (I giggled every time two characters started speaking in French, only to say “Let’s continue in English.”)
While I also find blind hero-worship of The Leader mildly disturbing at best, an invitation to dictatorship and tyranny at worst, good ol’ Hal feels like a very odd target for deconstruction. I don’t think people out there chanting jingoistic slogans are quoting Shakespeare, you know?
What’s more, I find the “every hero you ever knew was actually a turd” school of film-making no longer terribly insightful or thought-provoking. As fans of swords’n’slaughter we’ve been through this already with Game of Thrones, and found at the end of it there was nothing, just cheap spectacle, sound and fury signifying nothing, all the while hypocritically dressing itself up in pacifist clothing while drenching the screen in 30-minute battlefests. It’s hollow, empty storytelling whose point has already been made several times by better productions.
At the time it was first staged, I’m sure Henry V was intended as a bit of nationalistic rabble-rousing, but Shakespeare is celebrated today for his poetry, not his patriotism, and sucking the language out of his plays sucks the life out of them.
