`Henry IV' is tale of a king torn in two parts

May 23, 2006|By Chris Jones, Tribune theater critic

Somewhere around the fifth hour of Barbara Gaines' "Henry IV" marathon, which opened Sunday at Chicago Shakespeare Theatre and heads this summer to the mother church of Stratford-upon-Avon, a remarkable scene smacks you in the face.

Prince Hal--played by the compelling Jeffrey Carlson--thinks his old man has kicked off. Hal cries, and then literally walks off with the crown. But like an anguished figure from one of Shakespeare's late romances, David Lively's napping King Henry roars back to life, his death greatly exaggerated. In an atmosphere of acute emotional pain and spitting words like daggers, the dying father berates the son for moving too fast. It's among the most moving scenes ever played on this young stage.

Both parts of "Henry IV" are about parenting and maturation. Productions live and die on their portrayals thereof. One still can stir a modicum of socio-political interest in the machinations of the various factions vying here for the British throne, an inbred, scheming crew. But this is a coming-of-age piece about a burdened young man caught between two fathers. Gaines' production has one of those relationships--the one between Hal and his actual father--down cold. The other, equally important one--between Hal and his surrogate father, Sir John Falstaff--doesn't yet work.

There's much to admire in Gaines' ambitious, accessible leather-and-shafts-of-light production. Surely conceived as a showcase for Chicago Shakes--indeed, for Chicago theater and its fine actors--numerous moments and performances do the city proud. The storytelling is clear and intelligent. The show has a beating heart. The core of each scene is directed with integrity, intelligence and simplicity. And the casting is laudably unconventional.

Carlson, for example, has a plumby Juilliard accent but a Hollywood slacker's visage. That lands him somewhere between Christian Slater and Prince Charles. But it works. The man ages before our eyes, which is the first order of business. The moving king is all the more impressive because Lively was initially just an understudy. And from Kate Fry to Kevin Gudahl to Mike Nussbaum to the inimitable Lusia Strus as Mistress Quickly, you've got the A-team pouring out their vital inner cores.

But when it comes to the pivotal scenes between Hal and Greg Vinkler's Falstaff, a dangerous blind spot yawns. Problems flow partly because Vinkler's singsong Falstaff feels too much like a done deal. An actor of great talent, he has done this part and mastered its comic physicality. But the famous "Honour" speech disappoints because it feels like nothing is being decided in the moment.

You could make a good case that a central question about Shakespeare--his political bearings--hangs on whether these plays are about Hal learning to be a better man by communing with regular folks, his true teachers, or whether the conservative Bard actually was saying that populism is a dangerous habit for an autocratic monarch. The truth probably lies somewhere betwixt the two. But Hal's spurning of lovable Sir John still has got to cost the kid something in the end.

When Hal rebuffs Falstaff, Gaines has a spatial chasm between the two. That might work if the pair had already shared a father-and-son relationship destined to end in sadness, as they all do. It can be read on the faces of the denizens of Eastcheap and in the wry smile of Timothy Edward Kane's Poins. But the two principals seem to run away from the play's very heart. Perhaps Gaines wanted a colder Hal. In the fight scene with Hotspur, she inserts a wordless but character-changing moment where Hotspur (played by the fabulous John Douglas Thompson) has Hal pinned to the ground but lets him go. Mercurial Hal, offering no such consideration, then runs his rival through. Hardly the actions of a king. More those of an irreparable coward.

Tweaking Stratford with an ignoble Hal (and thus an ignoble Henry V) is a nicely insouciant move, perhaps. A cheeky, anti-monarchical snub from the egalitarian Midwest. Good for Gaines. But she still has to fix that thing between the rich boy and his fat daddy.


"Henry IV" plays on Navy Pier through June 18. Tickets are $95. Running time is 6 hours. Call 312-595-5600.