Henry V (1944)

aka The Chronicle History of Henry the Fift with his battel fought at Agin Court in France

directed by Laurence Olivier
Frames in this review are taken from the Criterion DVD.

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This being Shakespeare, I will dispense with a plot summary for this review. See any number of guides, like the Sparknotes Henry V Plot Overview.

Olivier's Henry V is a vivid dramatization of Shakespeare and a great cinematic achievement. But it will forever be framed in its historical surroundings, being filmed and released in the middle of the Second World War, as a great English-speaking host prepared to invade France. Shakespeare's story of the young English King who fought in France, captured French territory, and won a French bride could not be more appropriate. Though France is the enemy in the play, it ends up as a friend, with the two kingdoms joined in the bonds of matrimony. There's a great shot of Katharine and Henry's hands, she wearing a ring of fleurs de lis, and he wearing the Plantagenet seal of lions and fleurs de lis.

And if that sounds too simplified an approach to the relationship between Britain and France, then that's a mark of its function as wartime propaganda. The Soviet analogy would be Eisenstein's Ivan the Terrible trilogy, of which only the first two films were completed. In them, a ruthless Russian prince consolidates Russia, fights a great patriotic war against the Mongols, and sends envoys to Queen Elizabeth of England. A clear parallel to Stalin, but hardly a panegyric, presenting Ivan's brutal methods without flinching and using vibrant color film (captured from the Germans as the Red Army advanced) to suggest the excesses of Communism. Indeed, Stalin wasn't all too pleased.

In contrast, King George would surely approve of Olivier's Henry, a paragon of virtue and moral clarity. Shakespeare's Henry had excesses in his youth, but coldly scorns his old friend Falstaff, who soon dies. Olivier papers over his ruthlessness, Henry's scorning coming as a distant voiceover at Falstaff's deathbed. Falstaff's tearful "God bless you, King Hal" then comes across as an old man who'd once done wrong to the king, and has now reformed before death. Likewise, Britain is one happy family, Scots, Welshmen, and Englishmen joining in the common cause; Shakespeare's treason plot is missing. There's no taint on Henry's invasion, after the battle he never gives the order to kill all the prisoners, and it all comes across as a panegyric to the first British Empire. Brave and plucky English archers fighting arrogant French knights — just make the archers Spitfire pilots and the French knights German bombers, and it all comes together.

And so as a piece of wartime propaganda, excising entire scenes makes it a brilliant piece of cinema. Indeed, Olivier's Henry, more than Shakespeare's, seems to have inspired Michael Shaara's Pulitzer Prize-winning historical novel The Killer Angels. Shaara chose Gettysburg as the American equivalent of Agincourt, and populated his book with noble characters on both sides. Similarly, Olivier's Henry has rid the English of any foibles, and French blame for the defeat is laid almost entirely at the hands of the Dauphin and his followers, so that the French people, Katharine, the Queen, and Mountjoy come across as reasonable people friendly towards England, the true face of France. (Again, take the Dauphin, replace him with Hitler.) The battle is the stuff of legend, and the film takes pains to emphasize it — we see unwieldy French knights in armor lowered onto their horses by pulleys, while unencumbered English archers dart in and out of stakes in the ground.

But as historical drama, Olivier's Henry is marvelously entertaining and meticulously created. These are not Hollywood stars sloppily mouthing Shakespearean lines to provide names for the marquee, these are real Shakespearean actors. The acting is so uniformly excellent that nobody comes in for criticism, and it's impossible to single out anyone for especial praise. The Archbishop is a windbag, the King of France is an absentminded old man, the Dauphin is an arrogant and cold-hearted young man, Katharine is mischievous and naïve, the chorus narrator brings an authoritative presence to the stage. And that's not even counting the more common, supporting characters like Pistol or Mountjoy, getting so much out of their roles that they seem almost like majors. The delivery is first-class, one can even notice a touch of rhythm as Olivier speaks iabmic pentameter, as contrasted to the prose delivery. Except I can't quite get used to the British pronunciations of French words like Calais (chalice with a hard k), Dauphin (dolphin with less l), or Agincourt (with a nonsilent t).

Even more fun is that the film is set at the Globe theater during Act I and at the very end. Even though it's practically invited by the chorus, which asks so often for imagination, it is nevertheless good to see it done with such vividness and splendor. We see people filing in, groundlings and gentlemen alike, hawkers selling their wares, actors preparing backstage. We get a good idea of stage geography — curtains, proscenium, upper balconies. Actors move around and interact with the elements, placards announce scene changes, an April shower (well, the first of May) comes in through the Globe's open roof (but the Show Must Go On), and a prompter sits onstage following the lines.

Audience reaction is delightful, uproarious laughter and appreciative applause are accompanied by incredulous heckling from the groundlings, people eat their snacks, a couple cuddles, rapturous theatergoers sit forward and stand up to read the location placards. Shakespeare in Love doesn't hold a matchstick to this recreation of Elizabethan cinema. Love was too sanitized, too perfect; this feels real. The actors even deliver their lines theatrically, quietening down to motion picture volumes when we move into the play within the play. Makeup and costumes also go from theatrical to 14th-century when we shift.

The Elizabethan music provides good atmosphere for the theatrical setting, and a mixture of choral and orchestral music provides an appropriately epic feel to the live-action film. The consistent use of the heraldic fanfare stands out as a cue that an important parley is to take place. The camerawork is very dynamic, lots of tracking and panning, and it all seems so effortless. There's a breathtaking tracking shot from the side of the first French charge, as the horses slowly but surely gather speed until they're at full gallop. Not historically accurate, but majestic nonetheless. (Throughout military history, a charge at full speed has been considered out of control, whether men or horses are involved. Full speed only takes place when retreating in panic.)

Technicolor brings out the full color of the Middle Ages, with all the heraldry and flags. It's amazing how fresh and innocent Katharine looks with her rosy cheeks, maiden headwear, and pastel dresses. Played by 24-year old Renée Asherson, she looks much younger, maybe 16, certainly younger than the 19 that Catherine of Valois actually was when she married Henry V in 1420. When the film returns to the stage, Asherson makes for a more mature-looking actress.

Technical

As Warner Brothers demonstrated with their ultra-resolution The Adventures of Robin Hood and Meet Me in St. Louis, Technicolor can look incredible when the separations are photographed and recombined digitally. Henry V, though, looks merely good. It comes from an Eastmancolor internegative, and so the colors aren't quite faithful to the vivdly saturated yet subtle hues of Technicolor. There's some convolutional fading causing color breathing, and color timing doesn't always match from scene to scene. Strangely enough, the final scene looks like it came from an analog source, with video noise adding a screen door effect to the formerly pristine digital picture. Did they do some sort of manipulation in telecining that passed it through an analog stage?

There are also positive dust and white negative scratches (at spine number 41, this is before Criterion began digitally removing dust and scratches for their DVDs). Certainly Criterion's transfer notes are suspicious: "This new digital transfer was created from a 35mm internegative, made from the YCM separation protection masters in England." YCM separations instead of Technicolor original negatives? That implies fourth-generation material (Technicolor original negative to interpositive to separations to the transfer interpositive that we're seeing). It seems likely: the focus is soft even for Technicolor, and there's no fringing, so probably the result of optical printing.

But this is nit-picking that most people won't notice. If economics didn't matter, every Technicolor film would be reregistered and retimed digitally. Even Warners released transfers of Technicolor films from composite Eastmancolor materials. Henry V is fairly well-preserved, colorful, with very few defects (just enough for me to guess what the story is with the transfer; without these clues I'd have guessed it was third-generation material). The audio came off the optical (composite) negative and is sharp and clear except as already noted about the music. For a dialog-intensive film this is heartening.

Henry V brings Shakespearean theater to life and is a Technicolor feast for the eyes. Just don't claim to have read the play after watching this film, because it differs just enough that someone will catch you on it. Branagh's Henry has the reputation of being the anti-Olivier, gritty and bloody.