Henry V
With five actors and the simplest of sets, The Actors’ Shakespeare Project mount another shoestring, but professional, production.
Henry V is the tale of a young man, Prince Hal, a carouser until late, who assumes the crown of his recently dead father and becomes--literally overnight--a regal presence: from the frolicksome boy who scandalized the ranks of the nobility in Henry IV, Parts I and II, by romping about the kingdom with the famously dissolute Falstaff, Hal flickers instantaneously out of existence, replaced by King Harry.
The new King is a somber presence; in this production, as played by Seth Powers, Harry is watchful, set, intense, often grim: filled with decision, Harry is the antithesis of Hamlet: angered by a slight from the dauphin of France (Molly Schreiber), Harry sets his sights on the conquest of France. His mind is made up quickly, and from there it’s victory or death.
But this Harry is not yet completely mature. His conquest of France is a rite of passage: underneath his determination to be an adult and a leader, there is still a broad streak of the rambunctious adolescent. Powers’ King Henry is a closely confined character whose smile often presages a trick or a tantrum: his rages boil up hot and sudden, and when they do, Powers’ body trembles and gathers into itself. Instead of the regal sweep of a monarch, this Harry, in his anger, emanates a surly aggression: Prince Hal is still very much alive, and not far buried in King Harry’s new persona.
As with all of The Actors’ Shakespeare Projects, a mere handful of players fill a large number of roles, their shifts from character to character seeming effortless. They all assumed a variety of brogues and accents; when called upon to deliver their ines in French, Schreiber, Paula Langton, and Doug Lockwood plunge into the dialogue fearlessly, and charm the audience: even those who don’t speak French will hear the panic in Lockwood’s pleas to be spared when one of his characters encounters the ragged shirker pistol (Ken Cheeseman), and be entranced by the long lesson in English that takes place between French princess Kathy (Schreiber) and her maid (Langton).
The play is notable for the way in which a Chorus character (Cheeseman at the outset, but others also take the role) sketches out the setting through narration: with the spareness of the set (a bare platform in the middle of the room, built around a thick concrete column), lines like, "Can this cockpit hold the vasty fields of France?" come across as a big wink, and the audience is instantly agreeable. In exchange, the reward is effective, expertly designed lighting (from Steve Rosen) and a well-wrought sound design (by composer Dewey Dellay).
There’s also a strong musical sense about the production, from Dellay’s compositions to the rhythmic banging of random iron implements that suggests a pitched battle on those grand Gallic fields where leeks sprout and Englishmen prove their valor; director Normi Noel finds the rhythms of the piece and paces it accordingly.
However, the production does not quite manage to rise up to a peak of dramatic impact. Powers has presence--you like watching him--and he has a set of lungs, which allow him to deliver the play’s great speeches with force and vigor, but not always with nuance; when he allows for a quieter delivery, as with the "St. Crispin’s Day" speech, Powers commands the material and captures the scene. As a note in the program from director Noel reminds us, the play itself is a perennially topical examination of the practical and political uses of martial force, and it speaks directly to the cost of war in terms of human suffering; in Harry we see how his heart’s quickly-grown calluses alienate him from his own better humors, but make him effective as a soldier and a leader. Powers appears to look for an authentic balance between Hal and Harry, and his interpretation gives us a thin-skinned King, one in keeping with the play’s text, but in performance too inwardly seething; where we wish to hear thunder in his proclamations, there’s a note of petulance.
The play still manages to live up to the company’s consistent excellence. Where Powers, and the entire ensemble, outdo themselves is in the play’s rich swatches of comedy. Every humorous interlude is executed with superb wit; Cheeseman’s portrayal of Pistol is never funnier than when he displays a talent for physical comedy to intercede in colleague Nim’s (Lockwood’s) overt courtship of his wife, Mistress Quickly (Langton); Lockwood and Powers share the stage as a pair of French soldiers in an uproarious exchange centered around the a phallic comparison of the sword to the soldiers’ manhood ("You have an excellent armor, but let my horse have his due," Powers drolly ripostes); and in his courtship of Princess Katherine, Powers’ Harry is by turns awkward and persuasive, but gentle and sweet the whole time. (Though the bard may not have meant it the way we hear it now, Powers gives just the right contemporary anxiety to the line, "Here comes your father!")
Playing through Feb. 3 at Downstairs at the Garage, 38 JFK Street, Harvard Square, Cambridge. Handicapped accessible by appointment; call 617-547-1982.
Performance schedule: Thurs., Fri., and Sat. evenings at 7:30 p.m.; Sat. and Sun. afternoons at 2:00 p.m.
Tickets cost $30--$42, available online from www.actorsshakespeareproject.org and by telephone at 866-811-4111. Student rush tickets cost $15; valid ID required; available one hour before showtime.
Three-play subscriptions also available for Henry V, The Tempest, and King John via telephone, at 617-547-1982.
