Prince Hal Chalamet Let You Down

Sarah Engle
May 2, 2023
2 min read

In an ambitious adaptation of the Henry V histories, David Michôd’s The King crunches all 3 plays into 2.5 hours of beautiful cinematography...but that’s it. Orson Welles, brilliant Shakespearean actor and director, once said “every single way of playing and staging Shakespeare – as long as the way is effective – is right.” Welles himself adapted the Henry plays in an inspired biopic on Prince Henry’s friend and follower, Falstaff, in Chimes at Midnight. Because of his close connection to Shakespeare’s Hal-histories, I think Welles would have been extremely disappointed in The King.

Played by young Timothée Chalamet, Prince Henry evolves from a youthful pub-and-party Hal to a stern Henry V in what feels like 5 minutes. While this could be a nod to The Chorus’ encouragement to the audience to imagine the set and time, “Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts...turning the accomplishment of many years / Into an hour-glass”, it instead feels like an attempt to brush over important character change to get to battle scenes faster.

The characterization of Henry is vastly different from both historical references and Shakespeare’s version of the King. Instead of being an educated youth that turned into a cruel-tempered military genius, or Shakespeare’s wild medieval frat boy turned mature monarch, Chalamet’s Henry is monotone throughout every moment of his life on screen. His Henry is a poor substitute for Laurence Olivier's strong and charged Henry. An iconic moment that should have lifted the film instead pulled it further down. Henry’s famed speech at the siege of Harfleur is replaced by a speech before the Battle of Agincourt.

Henry V, Act III, Scene I The King

Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more;

Or close the wall up with our English dead.

In peace there's nothing so becomes a man

As modest stillness and humility:

But when the blast of war blows in our ears,

Then imitate the action of the tiger;

Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood,

Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage;

Then lend the eye a terrible aspect;

Let pry through the portage of the head

Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it

As fearfully as doth a galled rock

O'erhang and jutty his confounded base,

Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean.

Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide,

Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit

To his full height. On, on, you noblest English.

Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof!

Fathers that, like so many Alexanders,

Have in these parts from morn till even fought

And sheathed their swords for lack of argument:

Dishonour not your mothers; now attest

That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you.

Be copy now to men of grosser blood,

And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman,

Whose limbs were made in England, show us here

The mettle of your pasture; let us swear

That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not;

For there is none of you so mean and base,

That hath not noble lustre in your eyes.

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,

Straining upon the start. The game's afoot:

Follow your spirit, and upon this charge

Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!'

You expect of me a speech? I have only one to give, and it is the same one I'd give were we not standing on the brim of a battle field, it is the same one I'd give were we to meet in the street by chance. I have only ever hoped for one thing, to see this kingdom united under this English crown. All men are born to die. We know it. We carry it with us always. If your day be today, so be it. Mine will be tomorrow. Or mine today and yours tomorrow. It matters not. What matters is that you know in your heart that today you are that kingdom united, you are England, each and everyone of you, England is you! And it is the space between you. Fight not for yourselves, fight for that space. Fill that space. Make it tissue, make it mass, make it impenetrable! Make it yours! Make it England! Make it England!

The film's speech doesn't carry the weight or ferocity of Shakespeare's speech. Instead of calling his men to action, telling them to "disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage", the film's speech leans toward a theme of nationalism that furthers the anti-French sentiments that are carried throughout the rest of the film. The speech is also less impactful as Chalamet's Henry is a pacifist and attempts to avoid fighting for most of the film. His characterization is inconsistent and does not lend to the audience caring about King Henry.

Hal isn't the only character that falls short of previous depictions. Welles’ Falstaff is poorly replicated by Joel Edgerton (co-writer of the film), whose characterization of Hal’s friend strays from Shakespeare’s imaginary character. Not only is he more solemn rather than jovial, the relationship between Falstaff and Hal is stilted. This makes Falstaff's death lackluster and not emotionally impactful. Since Henry didn't seem to really care about him (about anyone, really), why should we care?

Overall, The King is more like a pauper on the list of Henry V adaptations. While it was visually stunning, the film can't rely on its cinematography to make up for its flaws. Even though it was generally received well by audiences, anyone who appreciates history or Shakespeare is most likely as disappointed as I was.