Review: Henry IV Parts I & II at the RSC

To see Antony Sher onstage once is a delight. To see him twice in one week is an honour. As part of the Royal Shakespeare Theatre’s six-year undertaking of all of Shakespeare’s first folio plays, Gregory Doran’s Henry IV Parts I and II follow swiftly on from last season’s Richard II.

Part I sees Henry Bolingbroke, now Henry IV, still racked by guilt over the murder of Richard. He sets his sights on the Holy Lands – but it is not to be. Rebellion threatens from Harry ‘Hotspur’ Percy, Mortimer and Glyndwr. However, Prince Hal, the next in line to the throne, is busy occupied with petty robbery and the company of the drunkard Sir John Falstaff. Religious gowns are quickly stripped for garments of war, and the symbolism of the gleaming crown sits starkly against Stephen Brimson Lewis’ bare timber stage.

The huge personality that is John Falstaff waddles onstage, and hilarity ensues. Just the right amount of self-awareness, jocundity and weighty insight, Antony Sher’s larger than life Falstaff hits all the right notes, and not one line falls flat. Adding a certain vulnerability to the old knight, and never reducing him to the downright silly, Sher cannot be faulted in his delivery or his ability to engage the audience in a dominating performance. There is an underlying sadness to Shakespeare’s bulky knight that Sher coaxes out, showing us a Falstaff that is full to the brim of mirth, strikingly truthful social criticisms, and of course alcohol.

Alex Hassell as Prince Hal similarly delivers a performance both funny and compellingly intense. The tavern scene is side-splittingly brilliant and the sharp dramatic curves, alternating scenes of comedy and seriousness cutting into each other, work perfectly.

The filtering of scenes, leaving Trevor White’s Hotspur lingering onstage just long enough to merge across scenes, was also an interesting directorial decision from Doran. Hotspur is placed within the blurred borders between tragedy and comedy. Indeed, White’s naivety, hot-headedness and ignorance produced a Hotspur less memorable for his honourable reputation and brave feats on the battlefield and more for his idiocy. In contrast, the energy of Jennifer Kirby’s Lady Percy made for a much more compelling female character.

The symbolic nature of the crown is utilised to its full potential to reflect the medieval politics. Jasper Britton’s Henry IV tears it off in a fit of rage against his truant son, an image that serves to remind us that we are watching: a King chiding his heir, but also a father telling off his eldest son. The humanity of the play is never ignored amongst either the bawdiness or the battles.

Henry IV Part II is concerned with the aftermath of the rebellion, the gathering of England’s forces to face further rebellion to the North of England, and the issue of succession hanging heavily in the air as the health of the King worsens. The play opens with a modern interpretation of Antony Byrne’s Rumour, who turns ‘open your ears’ into a Twitter hashtag, and proceeds to take an Oscars-style selfie including the audience with his phone. It is an interpretation that, although humorous and interesting, does not quite fit with the rest of the play.

But Part II is clearly a more serious section of this history. England is now a bleeding land of lies and deception, where nothing is as it appears. The bodies onstage fester with rank diseases and the body of England itself is teeming with corruption – a sick King and a sickening kingdom. Even our beloved Falstaff seems to have matured into the realisation of his own mortality and the realities of war.

Jasper Britton’s Henry IV truly shines here, commanding utter reverence whilst simultaneously drawing out our pity as he himself decays. The crown removed, the intimacy and intensity of his final scenes with son Hal are the emotional resignation of a dying man, a King facing his mortality, and the final parting of a father and his son. Britton and Hassell are two laudable and commanding performances. The crown lies in the foreground, ever-present, a reminder of both the past that has been and the future to come, the head that it has consumed, and the head that will reign.

Part I is both hilarious and full of rich psychological depth. Despite this, Part II still did not feel quite fully formed – the humour was just less funny, the intense not quite as resounding. Although an utterly wonderful Part I, Part II in comparison disappointed slightly.

Henry IV Part I and Part II will be shown at the RSC until 6th September.