Director: Orson Welles
Writers: William Shakespeare, Raphael Holinshed, Orson Welles
Photography: Edmond Richard
Music: Angelo Francesco, Lavagnino
Editors: Elena Jaumandreu, Frederick Muller, Peter Parasheles
Cast: Orson Welles, Keith Baxter, John Gielgud, Margaret Rutherford, Jeanne Moreau, Norman Rodway, Alan Webb, Fernando Rey, Michael Aldridge
I was going to say I like director and cowriter Orson Welles as much as the next guy but maybe that’s not so true. I might be more of a dilettante. I love Citizen Kane and Touch of Evil and I like to look at The Magnificent Ambersons to grieve for what might have been (Booth Tarkington’s novel is surprisingly good too). After that it’s certain dazzling shots and moments in some of the others, at least as long as they don’t have very much to do with Shakespeare. My problem there—I’m not proud of it—is I’ve never had a Shakespeare phase, not even in college, and I don’t know his work well, though I generally admire everything I’ve seen or read.
For that matter, Chimes at Midnight is not just a Shakespeare adaptation, it is a reimagining and refocusing of Falstaff, a recurring Shakespeare character, along with his relationship with Prince Hal. Per Wikipedia, the script for Chimes at Midnight includes verbatim text from five of Shakespeare’s plays: Henry IV, Part 1; Henry IV, Part 2; Richard II; Henry V, and The Merry Wives of Windsor. It is a deep dive into a pool where I don’t how to swim well. And it’s not the first time Welles did something like this. Besides previously making pictures based on Macbeth, Othello, and Twelfth Night, he mounted a stage production on Broadway in 1939, Five Kings, based on nine Shakespeare plays. In many ways Shakespeare was a theatrical medium itself that Welles worked in well, capable of working up pastiche for anyone who would have it.
I was going to say I like director and cowriter Orson Welles as much as the next guy but maybe that’s not so true. I might be more of a dilettante. I love Citizen Kane and Touch of Evil and I like to look at The Magnificent Ambersons to grieve for what might have been (Booth Tarkington’s novel is surprisingly good too). After that it’s certain dazzling shots and moments in some of the others, at least as long as they don’t have very much to do with Shakespeare. My problem there—I’m not proud of it—is I’ve never had a Shakespeare phase, not even in college, and I don’t know his work well, though I generally admire everything I’ve seen or read.
For that matter, Chimes at Midnight is not just a Shakespeare adaptation, it is a reimagining and refocusing of Falstaff, a recurring Shakespeare character, along with his relationship with Prince Hal. Per Wikipedia, the script for Chimes at Midnight includes verbatim text from five of Shakespeare’s plays: Henry IV, Part 1; Henry IV, Part 2; Richard II; Henry V, and The Merry Wives of Windsor. It is a deep dive into a pool where I don’t how to swim well. And it’s not the first time Welles did something like this. Besides previously making pictures based on Macbeth, Othello, and Twelfth Night, he mounted a stage production on Broadway in 1939, Five Kings, based on nine Shakespeare plays. In many ways Shakespeare was a theatrical medium itself that Welles worked in well, capable of working up pastiche for anyone who would have it.
At the same time, in 1965 Welles was well muddled into his poisonous relationships with many of the people who could fund him and help get his pictures made. This alienation of an industry is a main and often beloved feature of the Welles legend, his stubborn irascibility with Hollywood, but obviously it did not always serve him well. I’ve seen Chimes at Midnight four times now and have never understood it, no matter how I’ve prepared. I guess I could try reading the plays, but it seems daunting for all the usual reasons, starting with the Elizabethan language. So part of my problem with Chimes at Midnight is that I don’t know the Shakespeare, but another part is that the production values can be sketchy, as the picture was made somewhat on the fly. The audio particularly has often been bad, even in a restored version I saw in a theater. The current Criterion version is the best I’ve seen and still has apparent technical flaws.
I am thus not particularly on good terms with the picture but I tried to be a good sport about it the last time I looked, when I realized I was already lost 10 minutes in. Welles is obviously having a great time—after Wellesian, he was also a great Shakespearean player, a natural with a knack for letting the language unfurl with zest and thunder in great gouts. Others keep up and acquit themselves as they can. Alan Webb as the piping Justice Swallow was notably annoying, pitching the tone literally with his falsetto into near-hysterical realms.
Indeed, the whole thing plays farcically, with broad notes and lusty gesture. I often wished I could dial it down from 11. But they’re having such a good time. There are interludes of rousing and cinematic orchestral music. Many nice shots from heroic angles. And honestly the battle scenes are impressive. They do look a little patched together but medieval battle scenes are not cheap and I have to give it to Welles and crew and all for getting what they got in sustained scenes. Huzzah!
It’s fair to call the picture a star-studded affair, but the stars are more familiar perhaps to relatively narrow circles. Jeanne Moreau, darling at the time of European art cinema, gets near-top billing in the opening credits. She’s quite good but appears late and has relatively little screen time. John Gielgud is fine and self-serious as Henry IV. Michael Aldridge, Keith Baxter, Fernando Rey, and Norman Rodway also appear. Margaret Rutherford screeches a good deal and mixes it up with Welles. It’s high spirits all the way around.
No Shakespeare production is complete for me without recognition of the source of various common idioms, although Chimes is a little sparing in that regard. I recognized only “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” which the miracle of language and usage over the centuries has transformed into “heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
In the Twin Cities area when I was growing up we had a channel that featured “Mel’s Matinee” at 1 p.m. every weekday—a movie, broken up by commercials. On days when I played sick (or was sick) the two-hour block was automatic, after a morning of game shows and sitcoms and/or The Fugitive. I remember experiencing nearly all the movies on Mel’s Matinee the way I experience Chimes of Midnight now. I instantly don’t know what’s going on. Interruptions and distractions, host Mel Jass and his spiels and commercials or just taking breaks from the confusion, don’t help. Waiting for clarity doesn’t work. It never comes. Yeah, I know. I should bone up on Shakespeare if I want to really understand Welles, here or anywhere. He was bone-deep into Shakespeare himself and so is Chimes at Midnight.
I am thus not particularly on good terms with the picture but I tried to be a good sport about it the last time I looked, when I realized I was already lost 10 minutes in. Welles is obviously having a great time—after Wellesian, he was also a great Shakespearean player, a natural with a knack for letting the language unfurl with zest and thunder in great gouts. Others keep up and acquit themselves as they can. Alan Webb as the piping Justice Swallow was notably annoying, pitching the tone literally with his falsetto into near-hysterical realms.
Indeed, the whole thing plays farcically, with broad notes and lusty gesture. I often wished I could dial it down from 11. But they’re having such a good time. There are interludes of rousing and cinematic orchestral music. Many nice shots from heroic angles. And honestly the battle scenes are impressive. They do look a little patched together but medieval battle scenes are not cheap and I have to give it to Welles and crew and all for getting what they got in sustained scenes. Huzzah!
It’s fair to call the picture a star-studded affair, but the stars are more familiar perhaps to relatively narrow circles. Jeanne Moreau, darling at the time of European art cinema, gets near-top billing in the opening credits. She’s quite good but appears late and has relatively little screen time. John Gielgud is fine and self-serious as Henry IV. Michael Aldridge, Keith Baxter, Fernando Rey, and Norman Rodway also appear. Margaret Rutherford screeches a good deal and mixes it up with Welles. It’s high spirits all the way around.
No Shakespeare production is complete for me without recognition of the source of various common idioms, although Chimes is a little sparing in that regard. I recognized only “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” which the miracle of language and usage over the centuries has transformed into “heavy is the head that wears the crown.”
In the Twin Cities area when I was growing up we had a channel that featured “Mel’s Matinee” at 1 p.m. every weekday—a movie, broken up by commercials. On days when I played sick (or was sick) the two-hour block was automatic, after a morning of game shows and sitcoms and/or The Fugitive. I remember experiencing nearly all the movies on Mel’s Matinee the way I experience Chimes of Midnight now. I instantly don’t know what’s going on. Interruptions and distractions, host Mel Jass and his spiels and commercials or just taking breaks from the confusion, don’t help. Waiting for clarity doesn’t work. It never comes. Yeah, I know. I should bone up on Shakespeare if I want to really understand Welles, here or anywhere. He was bone-deep into Shakespeare himself and so is Chimes at Midnight.
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