Summary
A sixty-minute black-and-white episode in a made-for-television production of a cycle of Shakespeare's the War of the Roses history plays. The second half of Richard II, like the first, is a straight-forward and traditional telling, well-spoken and acted with speed and clarity. More a filmed stage play than a cinematic endeavor, with minimal notable production elements but with multiple cameras and musical scoring. Like Part 1: The Hollow Crown, Part 2: The Deposing of a King is interesting and dramatic but lacking in visual excitement.
Production
Directed by Michael Hayes. An Age of Kings Episode 2. BBC Television. Original Air Date 12 May 1960.
Cast
Tom Fleming (Bolingbroke), George A. Cooper (Northumberland), Geoffrey Bayldon (York), Sean Connery (Harry Percy), David William (Richard II), John Greenwood (Aumerle), Juliet Cooke (Queen), Gordon Gostelow (Gardener), Frank Windsor (Bishop of Carlisle), Mary Law (Duchess of York), Robert Lang (Sir Pierce of Exton), Julian Glover (Groom).
Analysis
Michael Hayes begins the second half of Richard II - with the subtitle of The Deposing of a King - with martial drumming as Bolingbroke's army assembles 3.3 outside Flint Castle. The second episode of the BBC's An Age of Kings begins as York upbraids the rude Northumberland for not referring to Richard as the King. Tom Fleming's majestic Bolingbroke, now with a chin-beard, takes command, accepting the news from Sean Connery's Hotspur that the King is within the castle, and quieting his boisterous troops after requesting parley. Hayes cuts to the robed and crowned King Richard standing aloft on a platform within the castle, with reaction shots in close-up of Bolingbroke and old York. David William's manic depressive Richard still displays occasional evidence of his effete personality, but is clearly being reduced to raw emotion. His "we are amazed" is all angry outrage, and he raises his arms - the loyal Aumerle at his side - to make threats against the rebels. He almost immediately deflates, not in fear of the glowering Northumberland, shown in close up at ground level, but with the twists and turns of his own intellect and volatile emotions. He wrings his hands ("O God!") at the upcoming parley with the rebels, but when instructed to "come down" his eyes flash with ire and he rages, "down like glistering Phaethon," but of course moments later acquiesces and descends. Bolingbroke's soldiers must be calmed once again as Richard approaches, and as he passes amongst them, they line up in a gauntlet, dropping their pointed spears in a criss-cross behind the King. Richard's words are sharp to the rebel leader - he encourages Bolingbroke to stand, chiding him that "your heart is up, I know, this high at least," as he gestures to his golden crown - and he warmly embraces York. What little confidence he has falls away, though, when William's Richard notices the crossed spears behind him.
Hayes then cuts to Richard's nameless Queen, concealed within her garden with her ladies in waiting. She witnesses her sly old Gardener and three helpers, and his pithy remarks ("all must be even in our government") about the garden work carry obvious correlation and political relevance. When the Queen overhears that the King has been seized, she comes forward to curse the Gardener and his work, and Hayes moves in slowly for a close-up of the Gardener's determination to plant rue, then fades out to a close-up from the side of a seated Bolingbroke, the shot rising with him as he stands and publicly accepts kingship 4.1. After Fleming's Bolingbroke is upbraided by the Bishop of Carlisle ("God forbid!") and hears the predictions of civil war, he sits regally in a high-backed throne as the camera pans right for Richard's entry in a plain black robe. William's Richard has been reduced to humanity, and his previously affected behavior is stripped away, as are his literal accoutrements of kingship ("alack!"). When he cries out "God save the King!" the answering silence is only broken by an uncomfortable cough from an observer. William's Richard again displays the fits and starts and ups and downs of an emotionally unstable man. Asked to formally resign the throne, he calmly offers Bolingbroke the physical crown, then yanks it back with a childish, "No!" He then solemnly transfers the crown and scepter from one royal pillow to another to be anointed for Bolingbroke, and he begins to weep, but when confronted by Northumberland with a list of supposed crimes against England, his anger soars - "damned in the book of heaven!" - then crashes into self-pity: he conceals his face and cries, "mine eyes are so full of tears I cannot see!" when asked to review the charges against him. His hurling away from himself of the mirror he requested is Richard's last peevish act, and his stature contrasts sharply with Fleming's now Henry IV, who sternly stands with arms crossed in front of him.
Hayes heavily edits Shakespeare's fifth act to focus on the tragedy and self-realization of the deposed King Richard. 5.1 opens to drum beats as a procession of spear-wielding soldiers lead a downcast Richard to the Tower. In flickering light from burning torches, he and his Queen embrace one another as Northumberland stands in disapproval on the stone steps above and behind them. When she is exiled, William's Richard wry commentary is an indication of his emotional growth and suddenly found self-awareness - "doubly divorced!" from crown and wife - and he takes her hands in his as he re-ascends the steps to be sent to Pomfret instead. When the barred door is slammed closed upon him by Northumberland, his face reappears in the opening and he takes his Queen's hands and kisses them before backing away into darkness. Hayes concludes the scene with the Queen rushing away down the steps and a close-up of the always-glaring Northumberland.
Hayes provides an abbreviated 5.2 with the Duchess and aged York discussing Bolingbroke's coronation, but cuts the plot of Aumerle against the new King as well as the entirety of 5.3. After a quick 5.4, with Exton shown in close-up over another man's shoulder, eager to dispose of Richard in the dungeon at Pomfret, Hayes resumes focus for nearly the remainder of the episode on William's lamenting Richard. William's Richard - now with longer hair and an unruly blond beard - wears a dingy white robe throughout 5.5, seated with his knee up an arm around it in a bed of straw, very much resembling the Christian image of Jesus. William's Richard is both king and unkinged, looking up then down, before rising to lay his head upon the barred gate to his cell. He listens to harpsichord music, commenting wryly on a discordant note, speaking directly into the camera: "I wasted time and now doth time waste me." He becomes suddenly angry both at the harpsichord ("this music mads me!") then at the thought of his favorite horse being ridden upon by the newly crowned King Henry IV, then turns to face the Keeper and three assassins. He gamely fights back, briefly furious in his resistance, but is overwhelmed and turned to face the bars of his cell. As Exton approaches him from behind, Hayes focuses the camera on an extreme close-up as William's Richard registers shocked surprise then terrible pain, and finally absolute horror. With blood on his lip, William whispers Richard's final lines - "mount my soul" - before half turning in an attempt to confront his assassins and slowly fall out of the camera shot.
Hayes concludes The Deposing of a King with Bolingbroke at a table of advisors 5.6, unimpressed with Northumberland's scroll that lists the executed political prisoners. After bearing the news of York's passing, he shows mercy to Carlisle, then goes to a window as a man sings nearby in Latin. Exton, below, stands in the night torchlit, with the open coffin of Richard behind him. Fleming's King becomes furious, banishing Exton and promising a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. As he rushes off, again ignoring Northumberland's list, the furious Welshman reveals the seeds of future rebellion as he moves to the King's desk, and as Sean Connery's Harry Percy observes, stabs the document with a knife to secure it to the wooden frame. A rising fanfare is followed by the credits, concluding a serviceable and finely acted version of Shakespeare's play.