In terms of actual plays part 3, of course. In which young Will Shakespeare gets to bloody business, and creates both a female and a male supervillain.

( Spoilers for Shakespeare and altered history )

I must say, this It's hard out there for a York tv version of the Henry VI plays plus Richard III , aka the Hollow Crown sequel for Shakespeare newbies, sounds better and better, casting wise. In addition to Sophie Okenodo as Margaret of Anjou, we also get Keeley Hawes as Elizabeth Woodville and Judi Dench as Cecily Neville, Duchess of York.

...which makes me imagine she'll pulverize B. Cumberbatch in the scene where Richard gets chewed out by his mother, but maybe he'll be able to hold his own. Also, given what the Hiddleston-as-Hal/Henry V. casting wrought in fanfic, when can we expect the historical Sherlock AUs where he's M's kid?

Great news to wake up to: I just heard via angevin2 that Sophie Okonedo will play Margaret of Anjou in the Hollow Crown take on the York plays. From the way it sounds in the article she'll play Margaret in all four, well, three since they're shortening the Henries, dramas. This is fabulous, because Margaret is one of the all time great female roles in Shakespeare (also one of the few great female villains), but because the Henry VI plays are both less good and less popular than Richard III, most people only get to see Margaret in her final incarnation as prophecy spouting crone. Never mind Cumberbatch as Richard, now I'm really looking forward to It's Hard Out There For a York.

Tangentially related: when I visted England a few months ago and chatted with rozk about alternative histories, one of the ideas I mentioned for an AU which I don't think anyone ever did could be headlined: Queen Juana of England. Because: what if Henry VII., who after the death of Elizabeth of York was in the marriage market again in the last years of his life and actually tried rather hard to get a new bride, had succeeded in securing his favourite candidate for a second wife, who was none other than his daughter-in-law's older sister, Juana of Castile, commonly known as Juana the Mad?

Whether or not Juana actually was mad was is still up to debate. What's not is the ruthlessness of her male relations in assigning that position for her. Background: Isabellla of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon had united Spain via their marriage, but when Isabella died, the crown of Castile did not pass to her widower; instead, it went to her oldest daughter, Juana. Which doomed Juana. First her husband, Philipp le Bel, tried his best to make her look mad so he could control Castile in her place. Then when Philipp died Juana's father, Ferdinand, after some time of dithering played his hand and had her locked up as mad which left him in complete control of Spain again. And when Ferdinand died and Juana hoped her by then grown up son, the Emperor Charles V. would release her, it turned out, of course, that Charles had no such intention because as long as she lived, Castile was legally Juana's. So he kept her locked up until she died.

Now, Juana during the last years of her marriage had actually visited England. Her youngest sister, Catherine (of Aragon), was then already widowed from her first marriage (to Henry VII.'s oldest son Arthur) but not yet married to Arthur's younger brother, Prince Henry (the future Henry VIII.). In part because Henry VII. and Ferdinand of Aragon were endlessly haggling about Catherine's dowery (plus Henry VII. wasn't sure he couldn't secure a better marriage for his son), which was the main reason why Philipp and Juana were dispensed on a state visit to England, together with an Anglo-Spanish trade agreement. Then, I quote from Thomas Penn's biography of the first Tudor king:

Philip had tried to keep Juana as far as away from the English court as possible. On his arrival at Windsor he claimed that 'a small incident' had kept her from accompanying him - even his close attendants claimed not to know where she was staying- and he was keen to avoid her being accorded a reception befitting her status as Queen of Castile in her own right. At his insistence Juana and her entourage entered Windsor unobtrusively, via a side gate. But Henry, his interest undoubtedly piqued by the reports of Juana's celebrated beauty, ignored Phiilip's repeated requests for him not to give Juana an official welcome and waited for her, together with Catherine and Princess Mary. (...) Philip immediately whisked Juana off to his apartments and kept her there. AS far as he was concerned, Juana was at Windsor solely to add her signature to the new trade agreement. (...) As if all this were not evidence enough of Philip's and Juana's estrangement, the king of Castile's attendants were at pains to emphasize quite how mad his wife was. During the storm that had shipwrecked them, they described how she had been a liability, sobbing at her husband's feet, her arms locked fast round his legs. Later, the Venetian ambassador travelling with Philip's party put it rather differently: she had, he wrote, 'evinced intrepidity throughout'. Henry concurred with the Venetian. Reports of Juana's insanity were, he later concluded, groundless. 'She seemed very well to me', he recalled. 'And although her husband and those who came with him depicted her as crazy, I did not see her as other than sane.'

At that point Henry was trying to get Margaret of Savoy as his second queen, but when Philip died, he switched his attention to Juana. Now, obviously however much or little he may have been impressed by that personal encounter, this was all about Juana's claim on Castile, not her looks or spirit. But he was really serious about it, putting heavy pressure on young Catherine and making it clear that he wouldn't let her marry his son unless he himself could also marry her sister. He even offered to go on crusade against the Turks on Ferdinand's behalf if he could marry Juana. The reason why this never worked out is obvious: Ferdinand had no intention to relinquishing Castile to someone who was easily his match in being a Machiavellian wily old bastard, and he wasn't about to be blackmailed with his youngest daughter's marriage, either, because when all was set and done whether or not Catherine married a second time into the new upstart Tudor dynasty wasn't that important to him. And I can't imagine circumstances under which Ferdinand would change his mind there. However, Juana had some months of liberty before she got locked up - the time which is commonly held as the proof for her madness, when she was supposedly travelling with her late husband's unburied corpse around the countryside -, and sometimes melodramatic twists do happen in real life. So let's say Juana gets convinced in time of her father's dire intentions for herself and makes a getaway from Spain to England. Not because of any romantic feelings for old Henry Tudor, but because Henry's actually the one powerful royal male at that point in whose interest's it is to present her as not insane, who has, indeed, publically declared his faith in her sanity when launching his suit. Plus at least in England she'd have her sister at her side. So let's say Juana goes to England, and Henry VII. is only too delighted to marry the heiress of what is the up and coming power on the European continent. (Now with new colonies overseas to exploit.) Let's further say Henry VII. and Juana proceed to have a male surviving baby before Henry VII. dies his historical death. What would happen then?

Henry VIII. would still become King, I assume; he's the older son and an adult, so a baby brother is no rival. But it's at least questionable whether he'd have married Catherine of Aragon. On the one hand, young Henry was a romantic who did see himself in love with his brother's beautiful widow whom his father had shamelessly exploited as bait and trade hostage. On the other, young Henry was also already capable of the Tudor ruthlessness. (His bid for popularity upon coronation was to try his father's two most unpopular officials for high treason and execute them after a show trial. The two men in question had squeezed the population financially dry on Henry VII's behalf, so everyone cheered when they died and overlooked the fact this was judical murder because the accused had only done what Henry had asked of them and had definitely never committed treason. Nobody seems to have clued into what this said about Henry VIII until many years later when Anne Boleyn came along.) And the fact of the atter was that after a Henry VII/Juana marriage, the Tudor's wouldn't have needed Catherine anymore. The only reason I can imagine for Henry VII not sending her back to Ferdinand would be to keep his new wife sweet, and well, Henry VII. never was sentimental. Henry VIII. was, but it didn't keep him from looking out for No.1.

If young Henry VIII. doesn't marry Catherine upon ascending to the throne, the question is whether another wife (whoever would have brought him the most benefits, I'm sure Wolsey would have arranged something) could have given him a male heir and avoided a lot of ruined lives. If he still does - let's say his affection for Catherine who is still in England to be married wins over pragmatism -, him having a younger brother as a back up heir also would have made a big difference. And I think he'd let the kid grow up because of that claim to Castile. (No Tudor would have avoided a chance to grab more power.) Charles, being Juana's oldest son, would have the superior claim, of course - after Juana's death. But in this scenario, Juana isn't declared insane and locked up. So she can, among other things, keep her kingdom of Castile separate from the Holy Roman Empire. She can make her son's succession dependent on his behavior. Moreover, it's questionable whether or not Charles would be elected Emperor. In real life, he was partly because super merchant Jakob Fugger financed the Habsburg bid and partly because the alternate candidates, who included Henry VIII., were deemed to have lesser claims or none. But now the Tudors actually have a blood connection and access to the gold from the newly exploitable Americas to offer.

I'm not saying it would have been a better world (except for Juana, and everyone Henry VIII. ever married in real life), far from it. (Lesser power for Henry VIII = a good thing.) But it certainly would have been a different one. And much as Elizabeth I. is one of my favourite English monarch, I can't help but wonder what an offspring of Henry VII. and Juana would have been like, especially if he'd have ended up on the throne in the end.

Via angevin2, lots of great Shakespearean news. The Hollow Crown team will, as some of us have hoped, do the Henry VIs and Richard III, which means after "It's Hard Out There For A Lancaster", we'll get "It's Hard Out There For A York". Now, my first two thougths were: A) Who'll play Margaret/Marguerite d'Anjou? - because if you do the Henry VIs in addition to Richard III, this is surely one of the all time great female roles in Shakespeare, and it offers an actress the possibility to go from teenage princess to ancient crone, from vicious power player to nemesis and accuser - and B) Who'll play Richard? (because even a Ricardian like myself will admit unreservedly that Shakespeare's Richard III is one of the best villains ever. I also hope the Duchess of York, Elizabeth Woodville and Anne won't be cut into near non-existence a la Laurence Olivier but will get to have their impact. And speaking of female roles, I wonder what they'll do with Shakespeare's Joan of Arc (aka never mind Richard, THAT'S the most blatant truth distorting propaganda by playwright in the histories)? (I know what Shaw's suggestion would be. Replace the Joan scenes with some from his own St. Joan. :) Anyway, Margaret of Anjou. Spontanously, I would want Amanda Hale, who was one of the few good things in The White Queen as Margaret Beaufort and I could see playing both the young and the old Queen with full intense force.

I also saw in today's New York Times that they want to publish a Gone With The Wind prequel about Mammy called Ruth's Journey, which got me interested despite the fact the two sequels to GTW ("Scarlett" and "Rhett Butler's People") were dreadful, because certainly giving Mammy a name and a story of her own is long overdue... but then I saw that the book will be written by the same man who wrote Rhett Butler's People. Which killed my interest. (Two of the most objectionable things about Rhett Butler's People:a) retconning the entire Scarlett and Melanie relationship and Melanie's character by claiming Melanie never liked or trusted Scarlett and was secretly writing letters to Rhett's sister about how jealous she was, and b) making Rhett a quasi abolitionist who objects to slavery (and has a discussion about that with Ashley mid war). (This is not how you rectify the treatment of slavery in GWTW. Rhett grows more and more conservative as the novel - GTWT, that is - progresses, and even at the start, the reason why he predicts a Southern defeat isn't because he sees slavery as wrong but because he is aware the Northern states have the better industrial resources. Which Ashley, btw, agrees with.) I'm all for adding new perspectives to compelling yet deeply problematic sources - this is what fanfiction often DOES, after all - but if you're prone to do so via completely throwing out the original characterisation, then you've lost me.

And "It's Hard Out There For A Lancaster" comes to its conclusion as director Thea Sharrock is in the inenviable position of having to compete with Olivier and Branagh direction wise (though hey, at least it's not Orson Welles she's up against, which was director Richard Eyre's lot in the last installment). Her leading man has no problems in that department, but the cinematography is not quite all that. Never mind, it's excellent Shakespeare tv.

( Invading France, The Advanced Class )

In which Lary Mary Crawley makes out with Alan a Dale while Loki gets chewed out by Rodrigo Borgia and gets his hands on Martha Costello. In other words, the BBC continue their Histories with a stellar cast. Less cinematically in this turn, or maybe that's just my impression because any film version of Henry IV competes with the late great Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight, plus as opposed to Richard II, which offered up spectacular landscapes a plenty, this one stayed indoors mostly (both for the tavern and the court scenes) except for the big battle of Shrewsbury sequence, about which more later.

Henry IV doesn't have the Richard II problem that the whole "divine right of kings" sentiment isn't there in today's audience anymore, and hence less of a dilemma; but it has a problem/challenge of its own, and that's how to take Hal's monologue early on, which essentually outlines his arc through both parts. "I'm just slumming it with the lot of you because that will make me ever so much better once I reform and will impress people far more than if I had been a good boy from the start, oh, and btw, I'm going to dump the lot of you who believe you are my friends" is Hal at his most cold, and it's possible to play Hal as a Machiavellian machine ticking along, but then the fact he does become king and follows suit on his plans hardly is an occasion for cheer. Then again, while Falstaff is fun and a lot of middle aged men went sentimental about him, Shakespeare also makes it clear that Falstaff with power in his hands would be an utter disaster because he is incredibly corrupt, with the recruitment scene in part II being the most glaring example (in part I, which this film version does use, you have him talking about the poor guys he pressed into service and we get to see them, which makes that point as well). Then you have Henry "Hotspur" Percy whose spontanity has its charm but who is dumb as a post and occasionally a dick as well; and our title character, Henry IV., whose arc through the first part is basically to throw up his hands and think/say "I ursurped the throne for this?!?" ("It's hard out there for a Lancaster" being a sentiment both Henry IV and Henry V. are prone to spout.) Not exactly a Hollywood recipe for success.

The way this particular production went about it was to have their cake and eat it, and actually get away with it. By which I mean is that we get Hal's "just wait till I'm king, suckers!" monologue as a mental voice over (so we're to take it as true), but the way Hiddleston plays his scenes with both Falstaff and Henry IV shows he actually does care for Falstaff and is seriously upset at his father's bad opinion of him. The later is helped by the fact that Jeremy Irons, bless him, plays older Henry quite different from what I've seen. John Gielgud in Chimes at Midnight is basically more Gothic statue than human being, and all voice (being Gielgud) to contrast the more with Falstaff being all flesh, and the two theatre productions I saw followed suit. Jeremy Irons is decidedly not a statue, a very mobile Henry, pacing up and down, working himself up to a rage, making mince meat of the Percies, and bringing on the "you suck, you suck, and did I mention, YOU SUCK, AND I WISH I DIDN'T CARE" of paternal disappointment so effectively and viscerally that you can't help but flinch along with Hal. (Which in turn has the effect of making one believe that Hal, despite the earlier Machiavellian "this is all an act" speech, really desperately cares as well.) My favourite production solution to Hal's "just wait till I'm King, suckers!" speech still remains the way Orson did it - i.e. making Hal say it out loud to Falstaff, because that's the kind of thing they actually do to each other, and it has the same ambiguity of "I'm jesting, and yet I'm totally not" their pretend play later has - but this is pretty good, too.

Speaking of the big roleplay scene: that's the piece of resistance, the core of the first part. I'd be curious how the people watching the play solely for Tom Hiddleston who haven't read it and haven't looked up the summary at Wikipedia interpret the "banish plumb Jack, and banish all the world!"/ "I do. I will." exchange (do they believe/are aware he will indeed do it?). The way the roleplay starts included a fresh element (for me; as always, it's possible lots of productions did it this before and I just didn't see them), because the way Simon Russell Beale plays Falstaff suggesting it it comes across as Falstaff aware the news from the palace has seriously shaken Hal and offering him quick therapy. Beale's Falstaff in general is more aware than many Falstaffs I've seen, though of course not completely. (BTW, he gets the big monologue turned into a voice over treatment as well, for his famous "honour" speech, thought while he wanders through the soldiers preparing themselves for the battle of Shrewsbury.) When playing the king, Beale as Falstaff doesn't go for an Jeremy Irons imitation, whereas when he plays Hal he mimicks Hiddleston a bit. Conversely, Hiddleston playing Hal playing the king does go for a Jeremy Irons imitation, except for Hal's last reply. Which makes sense. The "I do; I will" is spoken purely as Hal, and as in Chimes at Midnight and Branagh's Henry V which added this scene as a flashback, the exchange of looks between Falstaff and Hal means they're both aware this isn't a joke/play act anymore, though Falstaff still hopes Hal doesn't mean it (which is Falstaff for you).

Something cut in Chimes which is included here is the scene of Hal and Poins bullying making fun of the poor waiter, and that reminded me why Ned Poins is my most loathed character in the entire Henriad. Whether or not you see Hal as a Machiavellian machine, he's interestingly fucked up. Poins is just a syophantic mean bully of the frat boy type. Or: what they do to the waiter reminds of Gratiano in Merchant of Venice going after Shylock once Shylock is down, taunting him; it's just mean spirited bullying masquerading as prankism and so unfunny it hurts.

Meanwhile, in the North and Wales: Michelle Dockery is great as Kate, bringing the charm and wit she had as Lady Mary to the role but without the idleness. It's interesting that a scene which is possibly just another example of Shakespeare making fun of the Welsh in this film comes across as Percy being a clueless boor and Glendower showing extreme restraint for not throwing him off the next battlement instead (also, win for letting Lady Mortimer actually talk Welsh and reminding me how beautiful it sounds), while Percy's actor is handsome and charismatic enough, and does come across as sincerely in love with his wife (with whom he has excellent sexual chemistry), that you understand why even a smart woman like Kate puts up with him. Kate's brother Mortimer is the first uncreepy role I've seen Harry Llyod in for a while, so that was odd.

Missing out: any homoerotic subtext, interestingly enough after Richard II which had it in spades. I mean, slash is in the eyes of the beholder, and no doubt other viewers will judge differently, but I didn't see it anywhere in this film version, and it could have been there. (This being the source text for My Own Private Idaho where both Hal Character/Poins Character and Hal Character/ Falstaff Character is on screen canon.) This is the straightest version of Henry IV. I've ever seen.

Battle of Shrewsbury: inevitably, this is the sequence most overtly influenced by Chimes at Midnight. Many war films have the problem of on the one hand aiming for a "war is bad" message but on the other conveying "war is exciting" via the battle filming ("war is boring" equalling "we'll lose viewers"). The only film which managed to present a battle scene that is both cinematically breathtaking and yet an utter condemnation of war without falling into that trap is the one from Chimes at Midnight, in which Orson Welles, despite a minimal budget and defiinitely no actual masses at his disposal, let alone special effects, nonetheless came up with something that conveyed the brutality of warface than anything I've seen since. Branagh's Henry V took several elements from this for his staging of the battle of Agincourt - the mud and rain, notably - but then turned it around to everyone singing "Gloria" in relief. Richard Eyre, who directed this Henry IV, Part I, also took the mud, rain/snowfall and the brutality of medieaval warfare but added, because of the wintery landscape, something afterwards that associated more the crater landscapes of WWI. He also showed the duel between Percy and Hal longer, and gave the scene where Falstaff arrives with the body of dead Percy, claiming to have killed him, a completely different subtext. In Chimes at Midnight, this happens in front of the king (an Orson innovation). Hal could call Falstaff a liar, but he just doesn't because his father expects him to. It's a three way (mostly) silent glare and power struggle. In this Henry IV, the witness is John of Lancaster and Hal at first makes his textual protest and gives the impression he actually would like to have it known he defeated Percy, thanks a lot, but Beale-as-Falstaff's counter claims have the subtext of "give me this, at least give me this, come on" and then Hal in a mixture of amusement and genuine affection lets it happen, but you also have the impression this is where Falstaff seals his fate if it isn't sealed already (which of course it was).

In conclusion: bring on the next part! In all other versions I've seen so far I'm always tempted to fast forward through the "Dad is dead! Bad crown (let me have it)! Not dead yet, oops!" sequence but here I'm actively looking forward to it because I'm really curious to see what Jeremy Irons and Tom Hiddleston make of it. And of course, in a masochistic way, to "I know thee not, old man".