Falstaff falls flat
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
On Friday the 20th I went to the National to see Henry IV Part 1. On Staurday I returned to see Part 2. Even Shakespeare wasn't averse to using a sequel to get the punters back into the theatre, you see. Anyway, apart from these two plays being among old Shakey's best, they feature one of his great creations - Falstaff - and the actor playing him in these National production is Michael Gambon (Sir Michael to our American friends).
Much of the publicity surrounding his casting emphasised that he was an actor 'born to play Falstaff'. This is one of those ludicrous statements, of course, that can only be applied later in life. I can't imagine the Gambons - in the company of the midwife - looked down upon their new child and whispered admiringly, "Oh, look, he's got Falstaff written all over him." Then again, most healthy babies have something of the Falstaff about them.
Be that as it may, this Falstaff was a disappointment. This is quite possibly sacrilege and will lead to my banishment from the concrete halls of the South Bank but it can't be helped: Falstaff failed. I spent a lot of the time trying to understand Gambon's mumbling. This wasn't cod drunkenness taken to extremes, this was bad projection and unclear diction and, I suspect, a lack of confidence in an actor who specialises in shy characters. I'm sure the other actors were working from visual cues rather than lines fed to them by the portly mummer, who resembled a cross between my next door neighbour and a Santa Claus down on his luck, or at least making the most of the close season.
Much of the dramatic tension of the plays hinges on the relationship between Hal and Falstaff as a sort of mirror of Hal's relationship with his father - the eponymous Henry IV. Almost all of the comedy and much of the bathos also hangs on Falstaff like shabby coats on a men's rail in a cut-price clothing store. When Falstaff fails, the plays fail. These plays failed and I don't think you can pin the blame on Shakespeare.
Much of the publicity surrounding his casting emphasised that he was an actor 'born to play Falstaff'. This is one of those ludicrous statements, of course, that can only be applied later in life. I can't imagine the Gambons - in the company of the midwife - looked down upon their new child and whispered admiringly, "Oh, look, he's got Falstaff written all over him." Then again, most healthy babies have something of the Falstaff about them.
Be that as it may, this Falstaff was a disappointment. This is quite possibly sacrilege and will lead to my banishment from the concrete halls of the South Bank but it can't be helped: Falstaff failed. I spent a lot of the time trying to understand Gambon's mumbling. This wasn't cod drunkenness taken to extremes, this was bad projection and unclear diction and, I suspect, a lack of confidence in an actor who specialises in shy characters. I'm sure the other actors were working from visual cues rather than lines fed to them by the portly mummer, who resembled a cross between my next door neighbour and a Santa Claus down on his luck, or at least making the most of the close season.
Much of the dramatic tension of the plays hinges on the relationship between Hal and Falstaff as a sort of mirror of Hal's relationship with his father - the eponymous Henry IV. Almost all of the comedy and much of the bathos also hangs on Falstaff like shabby coats on a men's rail in a cut-price clothing store. When Falstaff fails, the plays fail. These plays failed and I don't think you can pin the blame on Shakespeare.
