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Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations

All’s Well That Ends Well

by Joseph Rosenblum, Shakuntala Jayaswal

Type of plot: Comedy: problem play

Time of plot: Sixteenth century

Locale: France and Italy

First performed: ca. 1602–3; first published, 1623

PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS

The King of France

Bertram, the Count of Rousillon [sometimes spelled Roussillon]

Countess of Rousillon, his mother

Helena, the Countess’s ward

Parolles, a scoundrel, Bertram’s follower

A Widow of Florence

Diana, her daughter

THE STORY

Bertram, the Count of Rousillon, had been called to the court to serve the King of France, who was ill from a disease that all the royal physicians had failed to cure. In the entire country the only doctor who might have cured the king was now dead. On his deathbed he had bequeathed to his daughter Helena his books and papers describing cures for all common and rare diseases, among them the one suffered by the king.

Helena was now the ward of the Countess of Rousillon, who thought of her as a daughter. Helena loved young Count Bertram and wanted him for a husband, not a brother. Bertram considered Helena only slightly above a servant, however, and would not consider her for a wife. Through her knowledge of the king’s illness, Helena at last hit upon a plot to gain the spoiled young man for her mate, in such fashion as to leave him no choice in the decision. She journeyed to the court and, offering her life as forfeit if she failed, gained the king’s consent to try her father’s cure on him. If she won, the young lord of her choice was to be given to her in marriage.

Her sincerity won the king’s confidence. She cured him by means of her father’s prescription and, as her boon, asked for Bertram for her husband. That young man protested to the king, but the ruler kept his promise, not only because he had given his word but also because Helena had won him over completely.

When the king ordered the marriage to be performed at once, Bertram, although bowing to the king’s will, would not have Helena for a wife in any but a legal way. Pleading the excuse of urgent business elsewhere, he deserted her after the ceremony and sent messages to her and to his mother saying he would never belong to a wife forced upon him. He told Helena that she would not really be his wife until she wore on her finger a ring he now wore on his and carried in her body a child that was his. He then stated that these two things would never come to pass, for he would never see Helena again. He was encouraged in his hatred for Helena by his follower, Parolles, a scoundrel and a coward who would as soon betray one person as another. Helena had reproached him for his vulgar ways, and he wanted vengeance on her.

Helena returned to the Countess of Rousillon, as Bertram had commanded. The countess heard of her son’s actions with horror, and when she read the letter he had written her, restating his hatred for Helena, she disowned her son, for she loved Helena like her own child. When Helena learned that Bertram had said he would never return to France until he no longer had a wife there, she sadly decided to leave the home of her benefactress. Loving Bertram, she vowed that she would not keep him from his home.

Disguising herself as a religious pilgrim, Helena followed Bertram to Italy, where he had gone to fight for the Duke of Florence. While lodging with a widow and her daughter, a beautiful young girl named Diana, Helena learned that Bertram had seduced a number of young Florentine girls. Lately he had turned his attention to Diana, but she, a pure and virtuous girl, would not accept his attentions. Then Helena told the widow and Diana that she was Bertram’s wife, and by bribery and a show of friendliness she persuaded them to join her in a plot against Bertram. Diana listened again to his vows of love for her and agreed to let him come to her rooms, provided he first gave her a ring from his finger to prove the constancy of his love. Bertram, overcome with passion, gave her the ring, and that night, as he kept the appointment in her room, the girl he thought was Diana slipped a ring on his finger as they lay in bed together. News came to the countess in France and to Bertram in Italy that Helena had died of grief and love for Bertram. Bertram returned to France to face his mother’s and the king’s displeasure, but first he discovered that Parolles was the knave everyone else knew him to be. When Bertram held him up to public ridicule, Parolles vowed he would be revenged on his former benefactor.

When the king visited the Countess of Rousillon, she begged him to restore her son to favor. Bertram protested that he really loved Helena, though he had not recognized that love until after he had lost her forever through death. His humility so pleased the king that his confession of love, coupled with his exploits in the Italian wars, won him a royal pardon for his offense against his wife. Then the king, about to betroth him to another wife, the lovely and wealthy daughter of a favorite lord, noticed the ring Bertram was wearing. It was the ring given to him the night he went to Diana’s rooms; the king in turn recognized it as a jewel he had given to Helena. Bertram tried to pretend that it had been thrown to him in Florence by a high-born lady who loved him. He said that he had told the lady he was not free to wed, but that she had refused to take back her gift.

At that moment, Diana appeared as a petitioner to the king and demanded that Bertram fulfill his pledge to recognize her as his wife. When Bertram tried to pretend that she was no more than a prostitute he had visited, she produced the ring he had given her. That ring convinced everyone present, especially his mother, that Diana was really Bertram’s wife. Parolles added to the evidence against Bertram by testifying that he had heard his former master promise to marry the girl. Bertram persisted in his denials. Diana then asked for the ring she had given to him, the ring which the king thought to be Helena’s. The king asked Diana where she had gotten the ring. When she refused to tell on penalty of her life, he ordered her taken to prison. Diana then declared that she would send for her bail. Her bail was Helena, now carrying Bertram’s child within her, for it was she, of course, who had received him in Diana’s rooms that fateful night. To her Diana gave the ring. The two requirements for becoming his real wife being now fulfilled, Bertram promised to love Helena as a true and faithful husband. Diana received from the king a promise to give her any young man of her choice for her husband, the king to provide the dowry. Thus, the bitter events of the past made sweeter the happiness of all.

—Joseph Rosenblum

CRITICAL EVALUATION

All’s Well That Ends Well is one of William Shakespeare’s plays that defies easy genre classifications and is often grouped under such categories as dark comedy or problem play. Though more comic than tragic, these plays contain troublingly dark aspects or resolutions whose very glibness causes unease. Some of these plays received very little attention until the twentieth century, when the unflagging interest in Shakespeare caused critics to turn to the less familiar works in his canon. The modern interest in these more difficult plays is also quite natural because modern literature often focuses on uncertainty, ambiguity, irony, unstable characters, and mixed moods. Those aspects of Shakespeare’s plays, which may have puzzled his contemporaries and repelled even his greatest fans, invite creative attention from modern readers and audiences.

Among such plays, All’s Well That Ends Well presents several distinctive problems of interpretation. The history of the critical reception of this play, though covering many other aspects, identifies fairly clearly three key subjects of controversy: the active character of Helena, the surprisingly ungracious character of Bertram, and the bed trick to which the heroine turns in order to win back her reluctant husband, a trick that raises grave questions about the moral center of the play.

One way that scholars have tried to ease their discomfort about issues in the play is to consider the folk tradition underlying the plot. Several have noted that tales of women who endured much hardship for love and of wives who were sorely tested were extremely popular. Stories about women who manipulated events in order to get what they wanted often presented such women in a favorable light. That Shakespeare might have wanted to preserve this point of view for those in his audience not familiar with the folk tradition seems likely, given his depiction of the older characters in the play. Unlike traditional comedies, where the older people are obstructions to the younger ones, in All’s Well That Ends Well, Helen has the support of the Countess and of the King. Such support serves two purposes. Within the plot, it allows Helena to concentrate her efforts on winning Bertram, and the approval of the older characters places Helena in a positive light, subtly persuading the audience to accept her desires and actions favorably.

These differences from other comedies give rise to controversies in interpretation. On the one hand, Helena can be seen as the agent of a double healing action in the play. She effects the physical cure by healing the king and then spiritually “cures” Bertram of his immaturity and brings about his acceptance of responsibility as an adult male. This interpretation is not far from the love-conquers-all scenario found in most romantic comedies. It may be considered merely a pleasant change that the woman, rather than the man, is the active pursuer who resorts to doing all that is necessary to achieve her desire. The basic underlying plot of traditional comedy remains intact.

A closer scrutiny of this, however, reveals that the gender change creates a much messier play. Innumerable questions about Helena’s motivations and behavior come to mind. In the first act alone, Helena mentions several times, in her soliloquy and in speaking to the Countess, that she is deeply conscious of the class difference between Bertram’s position in society and her own. Yet she decides to try to win him anyway. Having used her personal knowledge and skill inherited from her physician father to get Bertram, only to find that he does not want her, she then exacerbates her initial mistake in judgment by continuing to pursue him. She lies to those who care about her, pretending to take a pilgrimage when she is actually on her way to find Bertram in Italy. When she gets there, she is willing to pay to degrade herself to substitute for Diana. Though it is quite conventional for comic characters—and more often, their servants—to resort to all manner of guile and deception to overcome obstacles, it has seemed troubling to some critics over the years that it is a woman who determines the man she wants and then sets out to get him by any means available.

The object of all her travails is another source of unease in the play because Bertram is such an unattractive male character. Granted that his position in the beginning is pitiable, since he is forced by the king into a marriage he does not want, his subsequent actions seem both reprehensible and inconsistent. He behaves in a hateful manner, taunting Helena with two impossible tasks, running away to war, and abandoning his mother, estate, and country to escape his wife. He seduces young women, and then, as in the case of Diana, denies responsibility for his behavior, casting aspersions on their characters. His repentance and newfound love for Helena upon hearing of her death is, at the very least, patently insincere, and, at best, a mysteriously sudden and inconsistent change of heart. This young man, with so few discernible attractive personality traits, seems to have little but noble birth to recommend him. Helena’s determination to have him anyway is sometimes interpreted to mean that she is a social climber. This motivation links her to Parolles, one of Shakespeare’s great comic creations, morally questionable but theatrically vital to the comic atmosphere of the play. This viewpoint alone makes the play unusual, for though other characters in Shakespeare’s plays have attempted to move up in class, Helena is the only one who succeeds, to general approval.

From being a simple comic tale of sturdy and faithful love surviving all obstacles, the meaning of All’s Well That Ends Well thus begins to shift and waver, starting with the ambivalence of the title. The play can only ironically be said to end well, when the heroine has tricked the hero into staying with her. That the hero cannot distinguish between Diana, the woman he ostensibly desires, and Helena, the wife he has rejected, is unromantic, at the very least. Instead of sounding like a simple exclamation of relief that troubles have been successfully endured, the title can take on a more morally ambiguous shade: that all—including the means—is justified by the end.

The concept that merit, as in the case of Helena’s independent and courageous spirit, counts as much as or more than the inherited position of Bertram seems startlingly modern. That and the combination of comic and puzzling characterizations make All’s Well That Ends Well one of Shakespeare’s more thought-provoking plays.

—Shakuntala Jayaswal

FILM ADAPTATIONS

1968 BBC Production

In 1968 the BBC adapted, for television broadcast, a version of the play that had originally been performed on stage, where it had been directed by John Barton. The director of the television adaptation was Claude Whatham; it starred Catherine Lacey as the Countess; Ian Richardson as Bertram; Lynn Farleigh as Helena; Clive Swift as Parolles; and Sebastian Shaw as the King.

In an abstract discussing his own 2008 essay “Elijah Moshinsky’s BBC TV All’s Well That Ends Well and the Aura of Art” (which mentions the Barton production) Russell Jackson wrote that “[a]lthough many productions in the BBC-Time Life Shakespeare series were poorly received by academic commentators, some were considered more innovative and effective than others.” According to Jackson, “All’s Well That Ends Well, directed by Elijah Moshinsky, was one of the productions under the aegis of Jonathan Miller that were generally agreed to show a greater degree of interpretative sophistication and technical innovation than had been evident in the first wave of broadcasts.” Jackson examined the reception of Moshinsky’s production—both in the press and by academic critics—in relation to the play’s performance history, the 1968 televised version of John Barton’s Royal Shakespeare Company (RSC) production and to the general reception of the series.

John Wyver, in his 2019 book titled Screening the Royal Shakespeare Company: A Critical History, wrote that this film “was the first British small-screen production of Shakespeare to be recorded in colour” (59), adding that “colour is used meaningfully to help define character and delineate relationships. Similarly, while Robert Wright’s bright and even studio lighting for the most part adheres to the norms of early colour production, there are nonetheless moments when it too is used more expressively” (60). Wyver called attention to the actors’ tendency to “use direct address for soliloquies to confide to the camera (and the viewer),” thereby enhancing “intimacy” and particularly to create sympathy for Helena. According to Wyver, “Direct address, the stylized setting and the use of symmetrical framings all stress the artificiality of the drama, emphasizing the superficiality of the two courts, against which Helena’s sincerity is accentuated” (61).

1980–81 BBC Production

This nearly two-and-a-half-hour production, part of the complete BBC television Shakespeare plays aired in the 1970s and 1980s, was directed by Elijah Moshinsky and starred Celia Johnson as the Countess of Rousillon; Ian Charleson as Bertram; Michael Hordern as Lafeu; Angela Down as Helena; Peter Jeffrey as Parolles; Pippa Guard as Diana; and Donald Sinden as the King of France. First broadcast in 1980 in Britain, it was aired the following year in the United States.

Henry Fenwick, in his valuable overview of the production, printed as part of a booklet issued to coincide with its initial broadcast (17–28), wrote that this was Moshinsky’s first time directing this play, that he emphasized both light and darkness and other visual contrasts as well as such themes as “the generation gap” (17) and “unhealthy” sexuality, as when Bertram tries to seduce Diana (18). Fenwick called Donald Sinden’s performance as the King of France “very funny, extremely sexual, and often threatening” (18). He said that the roles of Bertram and Helena are difficult to cast and noted Moshinsky’s desire to make Helena less perfect and Bertram less flawed than usual (19), with Helena more obviously opportunistic (19–21) and Bertram more appealing and sympathetic (21–23). According to Fenwick, Moshinsky thought the play could work well on television, which could convey “its subtlety and its reflective quality” (23). Fenwick discussed the deliberately subdued colors, especially in the costumes, and the intentionally Renaissance setting, with Helena presented as lower in social status than Bertram (23–25). He commented on specific shots and sets; on the emphasis on “natural” lighting, such as through windows; on the inspiration of Renaissance Dutch paintings; and on the emphasis on candlelight, noting Moshinsky’s “instinct for atmosphere above strict realism” (27). He closed by stressing this production’s concluding emphasis on “magic,” “romance,” “poise,” and “hope” (28).

Herbert Weil, reviewing the broadcast in 1982, wrote that “Elijah Moshinsky’s All’s Well impresses us as one of the best BBC productions because of fine casting and extremely intelligent and sensitive performing and editing. One admires this director’s close attention to the lines and feels that, despite the extensive cutting, he faces rather than evades the basic problems of the play.” According to Weil, “Scene after scene shows the director’s care in setting and development” so that “[e]ven those pleased with this production could hardly have expected its brilliant consummation in the notorious conclusion which so infrequently has convinced readers and spectators that Bertram has become worthy” (2).

Also writing in 1982, Susan Willis explained that “Moshinsky carefully shaped his interpretation of All’s Well on the principle of chiaroscuro, that is, sharp contrasts of light and shadow evident in most of the camera shots, sharp contras in age between the generations represented in the play and in the acting styles of those portraying them, and a sharp contrast between the realistic setting and presentation of the play and the self-consciously theatrical epilogue” (3).

In 1983, Irene Dash declared that, “[w]ith remarkable success, the BBC transferred All’s Well That Ends Well to TV by recognizing the focal role of Helena. Using the camera to explain her ambiguous position in the home of the Countess of Roussillon and retaining many of Helena’s lines usually excised, Elijah Moshinsky created an exciting tape,” so that “Shakespeare’s text no longer seemed to qualify as a ‘problem play’ but rather as a comedy with a woman as triumphant hero” (7).

James C. Bulman and H. R. Coursen, in their superb 1988 collection Shakespeare on Television (273–74), surveyed a variety of early reviews (most from 1981) of the BBC production. One reviewer wrote that “Miller knows how to make people speak”; another praised a “memorably brainy performance from Angela Down”; yet another called the production “elegantly mounted and intelligently acted”; while a writer for the New York Times said the play “works surprisingly well on television” and praised Donald Sinden and Pippa Guard in particular but complained that “[t]oo much of the dialogue is delivered in a kind of ominous hush.” Other writers called this effort a “beautiful production … admirably played”; praised the “lights and setting” and performance of Celia Johnson; and extolled the “impressive cast” while calling this Helena “very cerebral” (273). Bulman and Coursen noted Kenneth Rothwell’s admiration of the “director’s willingness to collaborate actively with technical people”; his praise of the production’s “visual energy”; his commentary on its allusions to famous paintings; and his assessment of the result as a “visual feast” (273). They reported Rothwell’s praise of Michael Hordern; his observation that much relatively unimportant language had been cut; and his final admiration for “the pace and energy generated in this memorable performance” (274).

In her 1991 book The BBC Shakespeare Plays: Making the Televised Canon, Susan Willis wrote that Moshinsky’s All’s Well “has the technical exuberance of one exploring a new medium” (135). Noting that “much of the clown’s banter is cut,” along with “some of the elaboration during the capture and questioning of Parolles as well as Lefew’s asides during Helena’s choice of husband” (137), she observed that this version “is by design a heavily shadowed production because of the lighting—window light, candlelight, firelight” (139). She reported that “Moshinsky favors strong light/dark contrast” of the sort found in the paintings by Georges de la Tour (139) and employed frequent movement from long shots to close-ups (141). Willis added that “[p]aralleling the sensuality and the enforced interiority of the setting is a pattern of public and private exchanges closely related to light and dark” (150). She observed that “mirror shots” were used to “call attention to appearance, a major theme” (151).

Discussing his own 2008 essay “Elijah Moshinsky’s BBC TV All’s Well That Ends Well and the Aura of Art” in an abstract, Russell Jackson wrote that “[a]lthough many productions in the BBC-Time Life Shakespeare series were poorly received by academic commentators, some were considered more innovative and effective than others.” According to Jackson, “All’s Well That Ends Well, directed by Elijah Moshinsky, was one of the productions under the aegis of Jonathan Miller that were generally agreed to show a greater degree of interpretative sophistication and technical innovation than had been evident in the first wave of broadcasts.” Jackson examined the reception of Moshinsky’s production—both in the press and by academic critics—in relation to the play’s performance history, the 1968 televised version of John Barton’s RSC production and to the general reception of the series.

Peter Cochran, in his 2013 book Small-Screen Shakespeare (288–89), called this production “very stylish,” the cast “strong,” and the design “exquisite” (288). He thought Pippa Guard might be too appealing for her role; said Parolles may be overly punished; suggested that Ian Charleston might be insufficiently appealing for his role; but found the final act “very gripping” (289).

2011 John Dove Production

This 2011 filmed staging of a performance at London’s Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre was directed by John Dove and starred Michael Bertenshaw as Lafeu; Sam Cox as King of France; Sam Crane as Bertram; Naomi Cranston as Diana; Janie Dee as Countess of Roussillon; Colin Hurley as Lavatch; and Ellie Piercy as Helena.

Discussing this production in his 2013 book Small-Screen Shakespeare (289–90), Peter Cochran suggested that the play is even funnier before a live audience (289); praised Ellie Percy as Helena and Colin Hurley as Lavatch; found the King too loud; commented on a few weaknesses; and ended by declaring that “Shakespeare only works on stage,” as here (290).

Bibliography

Bulman, James C., and H. R. Coursen, editors. Shakespeare on Television: An Anthology of Essays. UP of New England, 1988.

Cochran, Peter. Small-Screen Shakespeare. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013.

Dash, Irene G. “All’s Well That Ends Well on TV.” Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, vol. 7, no. 2, 1983, pp. 7.

Fenwick, Henry. “The Production.” All’s Well That Ends Well, edited by John Wilders, British Broadcasting Corporation, 1981, pp. 17–28.

Jackson, Russell. “Elijah Moshinsky’s BBC TV All’s Well That Ends Well and the Aura of Art.” Shakespeare on Screen: Television Shakespeare: Essays in Honour of Michele Willems, edited by Sarah Hatchuel and Nathalie Vienne-Guerrin, Presses Universitaires de Rouen et du Havre, 2008, pp. 129–45.

Weil, Herbert. “The Shakespeare Plays on TV: ‘All’s Well That Ends Well.’” Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, vol. 7, no. 1, 1982, pp. 2.

Willis, Susan. The BBC Shakespeare Plays: Making the Televised Canon. U of North Carolina P, 1991.

_____. “Taping ‘All’s Well.’” Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, vol. 6, no. 1, 1982, pp. 1–8.

Wyver, John. Screening the Royal Shakespeare Company: A Critical History. The Arden Shakespeare, 2019.

Citation Types

Type

Format

MLA 9th

Rosenblum, Joseph, and Shakuntala Jayaswal. "All’s Well That Ends Well." Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations, edited by Robert C. Evans, Salem Press, 2025. Salem Online, online.salempress.com/articleDetails.do?articleName=CSSF_0006.

APA 7th

Rosenblum, J., & Jayaswal, S. (2025). All’s Well That Ends Well. In R. C. Evans (Ed.), Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations. Salem Press. online.salempress.com.

CMOS 17th

Rosenblum, Joseph and Jayaswal, Shakuntala. "All’s Well That Ends Well." Edited by Robert C. Evans. Critical Survey of Shakespeare: Film Adaptations. Hackensack: Salem Press, 2025. Accessed December 08, 2025. online.salempress.com.

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