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The Lincoln Center Theater has
delivered a stunning Henry IV, directed by Dakin Matthews. The script merges
Parts One and Two into a playable stage version with no seams showing. Hotspur (Ethan
Hawke) stole the show from Prince Hal (Michael Hayden), and Falstaff (Kevin Kline) often
upstaged them both.
The sometime experience of rediscovering a play well known from study
happened with this production. Or, more specifically, happened as a result of the superior
acting. Hal and Hotspur play as the doubled bad boys measured against each other
implicitly by their noble fathers as well as by the audience. The two also are well
matched physically, more or less the same height, and with similarly inflected voices that
show off every gorgeous line.
The play usually pivots on Hal as the prize in a symbolic tug of war
between his two "fathers," Falstaff and King Henry. Will he quit playing the
miscreant or will he assume the role "he never promised" as heir apparent? This
Hal is almost but not quite the undercover Prince waiting on his moment to show himself.
His "I know you all/ and will awhile uphold your unyoked idleness" fails by just
a tad to persuade us that he can rule whenever he chooses.
It's a Renaissance theme, nobility and accomplishment waiting on their
appropriate discovery rather than calling attention to themselves as such. The Italians
who invented the characteristic called it "sprezzatura." Hal comes off quite
wonderfully, too, in his soliloquy at the Boar's Head Tavern as he reads the letter from
his father calling him to war. The moment transforms the "madcap Prince of
Wales" into the royal son who will lead the country.
But perhaps best of all is the scene of stealing the crown from the
bedridden, sleeping king. Here an all too human father and son bring life to the rather
declamatory style of Part Two. Otherwise, quite separately, Hal competes for attention on
stage with Falstaff, the fat knight and mis-leader of youth. In this regard, Dakin
Matthews' fine direction made the Prince's seduction by Falstaff plausible, whereas the
knight's influence over Hal often feels more persuasive in the criticism than on stage. On
that score, Kevin Kline played Falstaff with just enough calculation and selfishness to
temper his character as jolly fat man. Picking his army from among convicts, with the help
of an oblivious Justice Shallow, shows him up as morally shabby indeed.
The earlier scene of Falstaff trying to outwit the Chief Justice (Part
Two, 1.2) might have profited from a bit more tension to tune up the conflict between
crime and (potential) punishment. But this was a minor flaw. Kline's Falstaff almost
evokes pity for his loneliness after pushing Hal into his inevitable reformation.
Determined to shun idle behavior, Hal turns away from the knight decisively. "Banish
not Falstaff," the old reprobate cries out in disbelief. "Banish Falstaff and
banish all the world." Hal's response is chilling: "I do. I will." He will
follow his father in learning how "uneasy lies the head that wears a crown."
New York, November 23, 2003 - Nina DaVinci Nichols