The play covers events surrounding King Henry Vâs victory over France at the Battle of Agincourt in 1415. It is the fourth in Shakespeareâs cycle of eight history plays spanning the Wars of the Roses. A tradition holds that Henry V inaugurated the newly built Globe Theatre in 1599 â hence the âwooden Oâ mentioned in the opening Chorus.
Shakespeare had already introduced Henry V in his Henry IV plays as Prince Hal, the freewheeling teenager who lived it up with Falstaffâs gang in the tavern at Eastcheap. Since then, following his painful rejection of Falstaff at the end of Henry IV, Part 2, Henry has matured almost beyond recognition. He now has a pragmatism, focus and charisma rarely glimpsed before. As King he shows great resolve, and at times an unscrupulous determination to achieve his ends. He displays brilliant rhetorical skills, which he employs in a variety of different modes. He terrifies the Governor of Harfleur into surrender with threats of carnage, while contriving to foist responsibility onto him should the butchery actually take place. He is passionate and inspiring to his outnumbered soldiers before battle. And in Act 5 we see him charm the French Princess Katherine into marriage. A king for all seasons.
The playâs attitude to warfare has been variously interpreted. On the one hand as a piece of tub-thumping patriotism, a celebration of English valour leading to a miraculous triumph. In Shakespeareâs time it would have reflected nationalistic pride at recent conquests in Spain and Ireland. The most stirring passages have been widely adopted. Henry V is a favourite of politicians, and an urgent rallying cry is often referred to as a âSt Crispinâs Day Speechâ. It has been quoted, adapted and parodied on numerous occasions. Conversely, however, Henry V can be seen as an anti-war allegory. The play pulls no punches in depicting the savagery of conflict. In the twenty-first century, many people are made uncomfortable by a celebration of martial glory. Henry is at times devious, seemingly sincere but willing to resort to any form of compulsion and deceit in order to achieve his objectives. And his constant invoking of God can seem disingenuous. The play has the capacity, in common with many great works of art, to be understood and interpreted in radically different ways.
Iâd never met Adrian Lester before, and sad to say, I didnât see him play Henry V, so had to rely on his excellent reviews. But I was very well aware of his talent and remarkable versatility. If in doubt, talk to anyone who saw him play Rosalind in Cheek by Jowlâs all-male As You Like It in the 1990s. In terms of the demands made of an actor, there canât be many characters further from Henry V. I was especially pleased when he agreed to discuss Henry V in view of the productionâs strong contemporary resonances, being played in modern dress at the time of the invasion of Iraq. We met in February 2009 for lunch at a restaurant near his home in Dulwich, and he was generous with his time. We talked before the food arrived and again afterwards, and went on until interrupted by a call from his wife to remind him that he was late at home for babysitting duty.
Julian Curry: You played the lead in what was described as an âurgently topicalâ production of Henry V
, at the time of the invasion of Iraq. Hereâs part of a review: âThis production will make you think deeply and disturbingly about the nature of war, of war leadership, with a shocking portrait of what war does to the souls of those engaged in it. Itâs about national pride and the damage done to a politicianâs soul in pursuing it.â Does that ring a bell with you? Adrian Lester: Yes, it does. I think the situation we found ourselves in as a country, at the time we did the play, helped to scrape off a kind of romantic veneer that the play can sometimes have. Performances can get lost in poetry and the beauty of the language. The deeper and uglier the emotions involved in any of Shakespeareâs plays, I think, the more vibrant the production will be. I have to admit that before we started work on it, I had a slightly removed sense of Henry V. I felt that it was about the higher end of human thought and endeavour, bravery and patriotism. But when we put the play on its feet in that particular climate, we saw that there was so much more in there.
For many people, Olivierâs film is the iconic Henry V. He made it in 1944 when heroes were hot and the validity of war was not an issue, and Churchill was Prime Minister. But by the time you played the part sixty years later, heroes were no longer fashionable, the war in Iraq was widely thought to be unjustified, and Tony Blair was Prime Minister. Each production reflected its time, but each was only partially true to Shakespeareâs text. Olivier expurgated the most gruesome aspects of war, but Nick Hytner maybe overemphasised them.
I donât think so. We were very careful not to use the play to make a political statement. We wanted to make sure that it correctly reflected what we knew of modern-day politics. In the opening scene where Henry asks the Archbishop to make a case for war [1.2], thereâs the understanding that if he does not make it convincing, Henry will take the money he needs from the Church. Once you put that in a Cabinet setting, with suits, ties, glasses of water, files and laptops, people thought we were being cynical. But actually itâs exactly the situation that Shakespeare created, and itâs one that people felt they were watching on BBC News 24. We were being told we have to go to war, and these are the reasons. But people were thinking âWeâre not being given the whole story here, thereâs something else happening.â
So if I asked if you were an anti-hero, youâd say no, would you?
Some people felt that Henry was still heroic because the country comes before the individual, the public good comes before considerations of whether he as a leader can sleep at night.
Youâre making him sound a more selfless person than he sometimes seems.
Sometimes, yes.
Heâs worried about his grave having a âtongueless mouthâ, isnât he, not even having âa waxen epitaphâ. Heâs concerned about his own legacy.
Well, there was a reflection of that in âHistory will be my judgeâ, that Blair kept saying. And again, everyone went âWhoo, youâre being cynical.â But no, Shakespeare wrote it.
I have the impression that it was a brilliantly powerful account of the play, but some people felt it was not sufficiently equivocal.
Maybe they did. But we felt we were riding the middle ground. We were trying to be quite exact, with the information we have now on the conditions and the psychological effects of war. We had a paratrooper and an ex-SAS sergeant who did drill...