It’s slightly fear-inducing to imagine that Harry’s career could take a one-step-forward, two-step-back circuit. For every truly remarkable role that he is able to rise beyond and make his own, like that in television’s Game of Thrones (2011) or film’s The Iron Lady (2011), and through which he seems to leave an indelible impression on viewers, he seems stuck with minor roles like that of Mason in the dark big-screen feature Jane Eyre (2011) or in The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I (2012) as Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
“K”
saw Henry IV, Part I before I did and
warned me that there wasn’t too much Harry Lloyd in it, but I assumed that even
a “small role” as Mortimer (a role that serves as partial foundation for the
play’s narrative arc and action) would be enough to whet my appetite for seeing
more evidence of Harry’s acting versatility.
I imagined a rather proud Mortimer, perhaps a bit simple-minded and naïve—weak
only when it came to his sweet wife—but strong in his stature and able to
captivate his listeners. I imagined that
Harry Lloyd would steal the show in his scenes, despite the magnitude of Hotspur’s
disposition, the teetering tension of the ongoing wars and rebellions, or the
overall spectacle and action of Shakespeare’s drama.
Harry Lloyd plays Edmund Mortimer in Henry IV, Part I, whose capture and
release helps spark a large part of the tension between Henry “Hotspur” Percy
and King Henry IV. Image Source: ©The
Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I. Neal Street Productions for BBC2/NBC
Universal International. 2012.
Instead,
I really did find Harry’s Mortimer a flash-in-the-pan appearance, a role that—to
be honest—was wasted on him. Any young
up-and-coming “unknown” actor fresh out of school should have taken this role
and found his footing among the threshold of that house inhabited by the great
actors loaded into The Hollow Crown. Harry Lloyd could have made a remarkable ally
for Prince Hal, a roguish accomplice and “best friend” part. In fact, to see Tom Hiddleston and Harry
Lloyd pal-ing around together would’ve amused many a fan, I dare say. Instead, Harry’s appearance in Henry IV, Part I feels rather rudely
thrust into this second play-film of the series, more of an interesting “curiosity”
for viewers to be caught off guard in order to say, “oh, look—it’s Harry Lloyd!” It’s as if they’re bird watching and not
expecting to find this particular species mingling with the others. “Oh, look, here we are, admiring the plumage of
our main cast of characters, and in struts this little bird…but, oh, he’s flown
off before we’ve really gotten to admire him.”
The
first part of Henry IV—or I Henry IV, as it is often known by
William Shakespeare’s scholars and editors—is part of the Bard’s history plays,
written sometime between 1596 and 1597, and performed for the first time in
1957. The play, based upon true accounts,
is set in the years 1402-1403 but unlike the connotations of “history,” the
play is rife with typical Shakespeare symbolism, wit, humor, play-within-play
sequences, and other swift metaphors that take shape through sometimes
hyperbolized characterizations.
The Hollow Crown brings together
four new adaptations of Richard II, I
Henry IV, II Henry IV, and Henry V.
Ben Whishaw plays Richard II before Jeremy Irons takes over as Henry IV, later
replaced by son “Prince Hal” (Tom Hiddleston), who becomes Henry V. The plays
cover sixteen years of monarchy, power-struggles, and political manipulations
from 1399 through 1415. One reviewer summarizes the narrative and visual arc as
such: “The story takes us from the Royal Court at Westminster to battlefields
in England and France. These rich films are woven with the finest of
Shakespeare's poetry and are filmed in the architecture and landscape of the
period” (Darq).
The
latest manifestation of Henry IV, Part I
(the second part of a four-part history play cycle called for BBC2’s purposes The Hollow Crown) has done its best to
maintain the Shakespearean flair and theatricality while keeping the program
moving at a quick pace, suitable for television. Perhaps this attentiveness to
the demands of television is at least partly to explain for a lackluster role
(not to be confused with performance) of Harry’s Mortimer.
What Does
Hook Us: Happy Coincidences
Not
a small part of my interest, as well as K’s, in Harry’s role in Henry IV, Part I is that it allows him
an opportunity to reconnect with some of his previous costars. Alun Armstrong played Dan Peggotty in 1999’s David Copperfield, the film of course
that gave Harry his first feature picture.
Alun plays Northumberland in Henry
IV, Part I, and his real-life son Joe Armstrong plays his son in the film,
too, Henry Percy (or Hotspur—thankfully, all the “Henrys” of the historical
story have alternative names!). Of
course, Harry Lloyd fans will be tickled to see one of our favorite members of
the Robin Hood (2006-2009) gang
reunited: Allan a Dale (J. Armstrong), allow us to reintroduce you to Will
Scarlett (Lloyd), last seen together in the Middle East at the finale of Season
2 of Robin Hood. But our two young men, Joe Armstrong and
Harry Lloyd, have also reconnected for the film Closer to the Moon (2013), which also stars Vera Farmiga and Mark
Strong, among others. At least that’s
another opportunity to catch more of Harry Lloyd, albeit only next year.
Former Robin Hood cast-mates clash (again): Harry Lloyd and Joe Armstrong
reunite in Henry IV, Part I. Their
next project together is Closer to the
Moon, set for 2013 release. Image Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I. Neal Street Productions for
BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
While
Lloyd’s Will and J. Armstrong’s Allan may not have seen eye to eye all the time
in Robin Hood, they’ve been yoked together
as in-laws in Henry IV, Part I. Harry’s Mortimer is brother-in-law to
Hotspur, whose wife Lady Kate Percy (played by Downton Abbey’s Michelle Dockery) is Mortimer’s sister. The two
brothers-in-law don’t seem particularly close and, indeed, Mortimer’s own
sister seems surprised to find that her brother and his wife, the Welsh Lady
Mortimer (Alexandra Clatworthy), don’t even speak the same language. They, and their wives, are presented as
political allies and personal opposites: both of them brave fighters, but each
with his own way of wooing his wife.
Harry Lloyd’s Performance:
Blink-and-You’ll-Miss-Him
As
mentioned above, “K” and I share a mutual disappointment that Harry’s role in Henry IV, Part I was rather miniscule,
barely a notch above that unrecognizable turn—as flimsy as an eyelash—in Jane Eyre. While Mortimer’s presence in the original
play isn’t an overbearing one, it feels more substantial than presented in The Hollow Crown.
Although
the name “Mortimer” gets mentioned nearly from the get-go, his capture having
set into motion not a small bit of the action that continues throughout the
play-film, the presence of Mortimer is, unfortunate for Harry Lloyd fans, more
of an in-name-only aura than an actual manifestation. Lloyd himself appears only about halfway
through the narrative, lasting only a few minutes on-screen, and for most of
it, a silent creature resting his head on his singing-wife’s lap on the eve of
battle preparations.
Thus,
Mortimer is more of a touchstone for the action than a leading player. Lloyd’s is a non-threatening role, which is
relatively strange, considering that Richard II (deposed previously by Henry
IV, played by Jeremy Irons) had once declared that Edmund Mortimer was the
rightful heir to the throne. Instead of
the feisty fighter who, in real life, plotted with Hotspur to depose Henry IV
and divide England and Wales into thirds, we find Lloyd’s Mortimer as something
of a milksop, perhaps with a soupçon of foppishness that is only undercut by
his displays of sweetness towards his wife.
Does
Harry succeed in making the role believable?
I think it would be as unfair to say “no” as it is to say “yes.” There simply isn’t enough of a part for him
to indicate a luster or dullness. It’s a
passable role, one for Harry to add to his résumé. It’s a role that pads-out the remaining cast
of the play-film. It’s a role that does
not do justice to Harry Lloyd’s abilities, that is for certain.
What
Mortimer’s presence highlights, albeit temporarily, is a small reprieve from
the stress, dangers, and even sheer lunacy found elsewhere in the play-film. While
Henry IV, Part I is more concerned with
highlighting Prince Hal (Tom Hiddleston) and his rebellious, idle ways as the
foolish and incompetent drunkard heir to the thrown; or in hoisting upon us
Falstaff (Simon Russell Beale) as the tainted, obese “mentor” to young Hal; or
in stressing King Henry IV’s tense moments as both father and ruler trying to
bring harmony and strength to his personal and political life; Mortimer’s brief
role displays affection, sweetness, and tenderness.
As
is typical with Shakespearean plays, I
Henry IV’s characters are connected to representative traits or “types.” Falstaff embodies “Vice,” “the scoundrel,” “gluttony,”
and “Lord of Misrule.” But he is also
the mentor and surrogate father of Prince Hal. And Falstaff is also folded into
the role of the comic wit: for, although such a grossly large man, he still
retains his swiftness through words. His
agility is through his tongue, which marks the incongruity with his physical
self. In this way, Falstaff can be a tricky sort, but perhaps this is necessary
for Prince Hal who, in many ways, is something of a self-indulgent, spoiled
brat and even Machiavelli-type who throws all caution to the wind. To help stress Hal’s indiscretions is the
disappointed father, King Henry, who laments that his son is—in today’s
parlance—such a loser, a failure.
Instead, Henry waxes on about the preeminent soldier, brave Hotspur,
whom the King even wishes was his real son (and that some fairies had switched
the two Henry children at birth).
Hotspur
himself fills a role and not just as foil to Hal. He is the miles
gloriosus (“braggart-soldier”), a much-needed “type” to help flesh out the
play’s action, particularly in the battle sequence, as well as to “spur” Prince
Hal towards his coming-of-age and reason.
The
irony is that Hotspur is so lauded by King Henry but the young soldier himself
faces similar “disappointing son” trials with his own father, Northumberland,
who calls Hotspur not brave and courageous, as does the King, but foolish for
“tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own!” (Shakespeare 1.3.36) by vowing
that he [Hotspur] won’t hand over his prisoners to King Henry. Boiling over
because the King both wants to steal his prisoners and refuses to release his
brother-in-law Mortimer, Hotspur even goes so far as to swear that he would
kill Prince Hal but that it’s not even worth it: the King has no love for the
son. A death would not matter.
Although
a “men’s world” in the play, women also dominate the narrative. Hotspur’s wife
Lady Percy is stern, resilient, and haughty—a great match for her husband. Lady Glendower, too (Mortimer’s wife) is also
rather strong-willed. She is adamant
about accompanying her husband into battle, for instance, although her power
seems to fade in that she never speaks English in the play-film and Mortimer
cannot understand her.
In
Shakespeare’s vision, though, Mortimer’s presence offers insight into a
relationship between man and woman that is based more on simply politics. Yes, Mortimer married Owen Glendower’s (Robert
Pugh) daughter as part of a political arrangement to unite England and Walse
(Glendower is leader of the Welsh rebels), but the marriage has a sweetness of
understanding all its own. As an actor, Harry Lloyd’s job in portraying Mortimer
is to express a bit of annoyance yet consistent love with his non-Anglophone
wife. He needs to communicate to an audience that he can connect with his wife
(in real life, the two are rumored to have had three children in their six
years together). Thus, he must
understand her through her kisses, looks, tones, and mostly, through her
song. Note how even when Glendower interprets
his daughter’s words for Mortimer, Mortimer’s ear is not as turned towards the sounds
of translation as they are to her face.
When
Lady Mortimer insists that her husband rest his head in her lap as she sings,
it is a moment of union with the couple and a moment of solemnity on the eve of
battle. In contrast, Hotspur and Kate
who also lay similarly together, cannot seem to get involved with the music. They
trifle, flirt, and fondle. Their relationship,
unlike that between Mortimer and his wife, is something more animalistic,
tempestuous, and physical. Hotspur
suggests that being submissive is being womanish. Mortimer, who complies gently with his wife,
is suggested as effeminate—perhaps a Shakespearean way of stressing that,
despite Richard II’s words, Edmund Mortimer would have been far too delicate a
king for England.
He may not
understand a word of what his wife is saying, but Mortimer’s attentions to Lady
Mortimer’s anguish are clearly displayed on his face. Image Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I. Neal
Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
If
it is Harry Lloyd’s job to suggest one part of a married couple whose relationship
is sealed through mutual, non-verbal connectivity, than he plays the role well
and to proper ends. If it is his job to
suggest an alternate type of man who can be both rebel and warring yet
retaining a sweetness and obedience, if not family loyalty, than his job is
done well.
Working With What You’ve Got
Although
many of the play-film’s on-location settings, tailored sets, and monologues
uttered while moving through streets, corridors, and markets give it the air of
a big-screen feature, in Harry’s part as Mortimer, it’s quite easy to imagine the
sequence on stage. Director Richard Eyre, after all, is a theatre director, but
was able to build things in a “slower development” that eventually helped all
the “colours and concepts” fill the “big picture” in a way that was both
theatrical yet television-appropriate, as costume designer Annie Symons shares
(in Kessler). Harry’s presence, small as
it may be, does fill adequately the space of the castle chambers in which
Mortimer finds himself, and he uses the length of the lofty rooms to his
advantage, whether comporting himself as an upright gentleman ready to make an outburst,
pointing his finger at the anger-inducing Hotspur, sizing-up his sister’s
reactions to his wife, or resting his head in the lap of Lady Mortimer as she
soothes him to sleep with her sweet, if not lamenting, Welsh song.
Our
first glimpse of Mortimer is as he, Glendower, and their company ride their
horses to Hotspur’s castle at some ungodly hour, cape-clad, mysterious, and
with territorial maps in hand. They’re prepared
to begin negotiating land divisions and their shared decision to rid the
English throne of Henry IV. Immediately,
Glendower and Hotspur clash, arguing with one another over rank, birth,
character, and lands. Mortimer and Thomas
Percy, Earl of Worcester (Hotspur’s uncle, played by David Hayman) look on as
if unable to say anything, hoping the battle of wits will wear itself out. It’s Mortimer who finally pipes up, insisting,
“Cousin Percy, you will make him mad!”
Harry’s Mortimer tries to soothe things between his father-in-law Glendower
and his brother-in-law Hotspur.
Thomas Percy,
Earl of Worcester (David Hayman) and Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March (Harry
Lloyd) look at each other as Glendower and Hotspur continue to verbally-spar in
disagreement over who shall receive which parts of the English lands. Image
Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part
I. Neal Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
Clapping
his hands to draw his relatives back to their senses, Mortimer continues to
persuade, “Come come, no more of this unprofitable chat!” He tries to bring
Glendower and Hotspur back to the matter at hand, but his presence has not much
more effect of a tiny gnat buzzing at the heels of a giant.
Eventually,
after some political negotiations that seem swiftly wrapped up due to Hotspur’s
unbearable disposition, Glendower seems pleased to have an excuse to leave the
room in order to tell Hotspur’s and Mortimer’s wives that their husbands will
be going to war in the morning. He turns to Harry Lloyd’s character and says,
“I’m afraid my daughter will run mad. So much she doteth on her Mortimer.” It’s a pity that we get less than a profile
of Harry’s face to see his reaction to this.
In the castle’s darkness and minor candlelight, we have enough to see
his smile lines etching over a good part of his face, as he turns his head away
from the camera.
But
it’s all a ruse—he’s holding in his emotions in that manner that all Lloydalists
will recognize as a bemused-meets-disturbed Harry Lloyd. “Bah, Cousin Percy, how you cross my Father,” he yells out moments
later, thrusting a hand towards Hotspur and therefore indicating that all the
silence and smiles and gentle exchanges of looks throughout the scene had been
a clever way of concealing his true feelings.
Walking
over with the gait of a bow-legged rider, he listens to Hotspur wax on about his
disgust for Glendower before Mortimer gets into his brother-in-law’s face and
says of his father-in-law, “He is a worthy
gentleman.” Sized up together, Armstrong
and Lloyd seem to match gait, size, and height—suggesting a strong affinity for
one another, as if interchangeable in appearance if not in mood. Mortimer tells Hotspur not to use his
hotheadedness and dangerous words so often, but Hotspur, as always, shakes it
off and smiles. Of course, Mortimer may
have just delivered an ominous warning to the young rebel who is not destined
to last long.
Above: As Mortimer,
Harry Lloyd attempts to reason with his hot-headed brother-in-law, hoping to
make peace between Hotspur and Glendower, father to Mortimer’s wife. Image
Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part
I. Neal Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
Above: Percy, Mortimer,
and Hotspur finally come to their senses…maybe. Image Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I. Neal
Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
The
tension between the two hot-headed young men is broken as they move down into
the lower rooms, where their wives await.
At last, we lay eyes on Lady Mortimer, who clearly has eyes only for her
husband. Mortimer seems to love her as a
father towards a simple-minded daughter—a blind kind of love that has no
words. Probably because the two speak
different languages. As Mortimer’s
sister Lady Percy looks on, sending questionable looks between her brother and
husband Hotspur, Mortimer reveals his pains: “My wife can speak no English, and
I, no Welsh.” But then turning to her,
he proclaims softly, “I understand thy looks…” Harry’s Mortimer talks-over his
Welsh-speaking wife, who expresses her distress at her husband going off to
war. He strokes her cheek, smiles, and
asks his father-in-law to translate.
Glendower
tells Mortimer that Lady Mortimer wants him to “rest your gentle head upon her
lap, and she will sing the song that pleaseth you.” Here, Harry’s Mortimer
keeps sneaking glances towards Hotspur and Lady Percy, as if desperate for
their approval and not to be considered weak.
There’s a sense of embarrassment here, yet also a kind regard and
affection for his wife that trumps others’ criticisms. He smiles and says, “with
all my heart, I’ll sit and hear her sing.”
He breaks any awkward tension by remarking that the soldiers’ books should
be drawn by the time the music is over—as if he can pass off this intimate
final moment with his wife as a pastime for them all. (Of course, the hotheaded Lady Percy and
Hotspur don’t last long with the pastime before sneaking off for some
canoodling elsewhere in the castle). The last we see of Harry / Mortimer is
with his eyes shut as he rests his head on his singing-wife’s lap.
This shot seems
a symbolic visual aid as to where Glendower stands in the marriage between his
daughter and Edmund Mortimer: in the middle, as the translator between them. Image
Source: ©The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part
I. Neal Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012.
Clearly,
the battle scenes that follow and conclude Henry
IV, Part I are meant to showcase Hotspur, Prince Hal, Falstaff, and King
Henry IV—our Main Players. In reality,
Edmund Mortimer lives, but his stroke of luck does not last long, for it is
said that he died in the Tower of London in 1413. Shakespeare, however, takes some liberties
with history and, thus, our attentions are never given over to Mortimer, our
foil, side-player, and token soldier-lover. A failed king, really.
Final Thoughts: Hopes, Fears, and
Cheering Harry Onward
Mark
Lawson of The Guardian notes that
this new manifestation of Shakespearean classics made for modern television
audiences makes-right the horrendous attempt in the 1970s to transfer all of
The Bard’s tales to television. The writing is better; the direction under a “group
of high-class stage directors” (Lawson) cleaner and more true to what we expect
of Shakespeare. Lawson also points out that Henry
IV, Part I “employs every trick of cinematic fluidity to match the quick
flow of modern screen drama: cross-cutting and dissolving between the three
main locations (the court, the rebels, Falstaff's dens) and turning soliloquies
into their natural screen equivalent of voice-overs.” Thus, with the scenery
and dialogue moving at such a clip, it’s no wonder that some of the
non-eponymous, protagonist, or antagonist figures would have to suffer a bit of
hacking at the chopping block. When
Lawson concludes that The Hollow Crown
“feels as good as TV Shakespeare is going to get,” we can feel secure in
knowing that Harry Lloyd is at least attached to it in some way.
So,
yes, due to the acclaim of The Hollow
Crown, at least Harry can proudly claim association with yet another
dazzling manifestation of William Shakespeare’s works. Yet, this is a budding talent who does not
need to swing on the coattails of others’ works, or to be “famous by
association.” Although news on Harry’s
next “huge” role is scant, we’re hoping that his slow-but-steady accretion of
parts is building up to something remarkable and remarkably suited for his skills. Harry’s already proven that he can play
sweet, naïve, or simple; evil, treacherous, or creepy; boy-next-door, annoying
employee, or cheeky boyfriend. He’s
shone on stage and television and film.
He’s played characters of history and fiction, of fantasy and historical
verse plays. I daresay that Harry would
have made an exceptional Prince Hal, had not Tom Hiddleston (another remarkable
young actor) swept into the role. Harry
could also have embodied the boisterous braggart Hotspur by combining the venom
of Viserys Targaryen with the pluck of Will Scarlett, had not colleague Joe Armstrong
leapt into those battle accoutrements instead. By all means, let’s join our
collective Lloydalists minds and well-wish him on to a very fulfilling project
that delights him as an actor and us as admirers and supporters, too.
Giving in to his
wife’s strong-willed intentions, Mortimer is lulled to sleep by Lady Mortimer’s
Welsh song as he rests his head in her lap.
Image Source: ©The Hollow Crown:
Henry IV, Part I. Neal Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal
International. 2012.
Works Cited &
Referenced
Bevington,
David, ed.. The Complete Works of
Shakespeare. Updated 4th ed.. New York: Addison-Wesley, 1997.
Print.
Darq. “The
Hollow Crown - BBC 4-Part Movie Series: Richard II, Henry IV 1 & 2, Henry
V.” spoilertv.com.
29 June 2012. Web. 22 July 2012. <http://www.spoilertv.com/2012/06/hollow-crown-bbc-4-part-movie-series.html
>.
“Henry IV, Part 1.” The Internet Movie Database. Imdb.com. Web. 21 July 2012.
<http://www.imdb.com/title/tt2120771/combined>.
The Hollow Crown: Henry IV, Part I. Dir. Richard
Eyre. Perf. Tom Hiddleston, Jeremy Irons, Simon Russell Beale, et al. Neal
Street Productions for BBC2/NBC Universal International. 2012. Film.
Kessler, Eliza. “Henry
IV and Henry V: Q & A with the Costume Designer.” BBC Blogs. BBC.co.uk. 5 July 2012. Web. 22 July
2012. <http://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/tv/2012/07/henry-iv-v-shakespeare.shtml>.
Lawson, Mark. “The
Hollow Crown: As Good as TV Shakespeare Can Get?” Guardian.co.uk. 29 June 2012. Web. 22 July 2012. <http://www.guardian.co.uk/tv-and-radio/tvandradioblog/2012/jun/29/the-hollow-crown-shakespeare-bbc2>.
Shakespeare,
William. I Henry IV. History Play.
1596-97.
~Written & Posted by C, with Insights
and Feedback from K~
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