Venusberg | That's not your heart, it's a piece of helicopter casing

Sunday, July 03, 2005

As London struggled with twin battles against homophobia and global poverty (and there's a Queer Eye special that has to happen), I was thinking on matters of inequality also. I've seen Henry IV Part 1 a good few times, but never Henry IV Part 2. After a double-bill at the National, I realised why.

There's no need for Henry IV, 2. Really, none. Henry has shown his commitment to the crown. he has redeemed his past and demonstrated his worth. To find him back in the pub in Eastcheap in IV:2 is not just disappointing but dull. This is how normal people behave.

IV:1 is really about Henry V, and IV:2 is basically about Henry V's mate, John Falstaff. If I were Henry IV, wheeled in just before the interval to look wretched, I'd be livid. The Elizabethan crowd loved Falstaff, and IV:2 is clearly an early example of a sequel attempting to increase the role of the funny man, forgetting thereby that the point about comic relief is that it is relief. See Jar-Jar Binks.

Henry IV part 2 is, in effect, Dream a Little Dream 2. The creators are aware of what was important about the first (the presence of Falstaff, the presence of Coreys Haim and Feldman), but they don't really have anything for the characters to do. So, the courtly plots in the second part collapse into anticlimax - Scroop is deceived, Northumberland overthrown off camera - while we are subjected to interminable Falstaff scenes that the poor director has to try to make funny with physical comedy, pratfalls, funny voices - anything not actually in the script. For Ancient Pistol throwing himself around the stage, read Corey Feldman's Michael Jackson impression. Scenes drag on far beyond the point of resistance, there are unnecessary romantic interludes, scenes are inserted or extended to pad out the length without increasing the props budget. Corey the Fourth.

Not helping this was Gambon's delivery - when he hit the lines, he was terrific, but some of his readings were so phlegmatic as to be impenetrable. It may have been Shakespeare fatigue, but the scene between Falstaff and Doll Tearsheet, played as a strung-out Eastender with Blade Runner hair, was for significant periods pure garble, to be endured rather than enjoyed.

Which is a shame, because MacFadyen's increasingly exhausted Hal was better in Part 2, and the scenes at court, despite Westmoreland being disconcertingly tiny, worked well. But there is just too much sub-standard clowning in the run-up. I'd recommend 1, not 2 - also, Harry Percy (last seen as Lord Asriel, playing convincingly younger this time), Glendower and Mortimer (gay as a window) brought energy that simply dissipated in their absence.

Still, society and culture, and the society was good. Without the time to cross the Thames and take Pride, we wandered to the Coin Street Festival, helped to make trade fair in ways that remain obscure, ate kimchi and listened to Funky Lipstik. That last was more environmental than voluntary, but what's not to love about the UK's premier covers band giving "Teenage Dirtbag" a mild drubbing?

Great 15-foot tall pantomime dame, also - pics to follow. Walking back along the South Bank, the young people of London all full of pride and giggling amorous humour, made me feel like London was contributing something of worth.

So, how was Pride? Or, alternatively, was all of Live8 that bad?

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