Type of plot: Historical
Time of plot: Early thirteenth century
Locale: England and France
First performed: ca. 1596–97; first published, 1623
PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
John, the King of England
Prince Henry, his son
Arthur of Bretagne, the king’s nephew
William Mareshall, the Earl of Pembroke
Geffrey Fitz-Peter, the Earl of Essex
William Longsword, the Earl of Salisbury
Hubert De Burgh, the Chamberlain to the king
Robert Faulconbridge, an English baron
Philip Faulconbridge, his half-brother, the natural son of King Richard I
Cardinal Pandulph, the papal legate
Lewis, the Dauphin of France
Elinor, King John’s mother
Constance, Arthur’s mother
Blanch of Castile, King John’s niece
THE STORY
King John sat on the throne of England without right, for the succession should have passed to Arthur of Bretagne, the fourteen-year-old son of King John’s older brother. John and Elinor, his mother, prepared to defend England against the forces of Austria and France, after Constance of Bretagne had enlisted the aid of those countries to gain the throne for her son Arthur.
As John and Elinor made ready for battle, Philip Faulconbridge, the natural son of Richard the Lion-Hearted by Lady Faulconbridge, was recruited by Elinor to serve John’s cause in the war. Faulconbridge, weary of his half-brother’s slights regarding his illegitimacy, willingly accepted the offer and was knighted by King John.
The French, Austrian, and British armies met at Angiers in France, but the battle was fought with words, not swords. To John’s statement that England was ready for war or peace, King Philip of France answered that, for the sake of justice, France would fight for Arthur’s place on the throne. When Elinor accused Constance of self-aggrandizement in seeking the throne for her son, Constance accused her mother-in-law of adultery. Faulconbridge and the Archduke of Austria resorted to a verbal volley.
Lewis, the Dauphin of France, halted the prattle by stating Arthur’s specific claims, which John refused to grant. The citizens of Angiers announced that they were barring the gates of the city to all until they had proof as to the actual kingship. The leaders prepared for a battle.
After excursions by the three armies, heralds of the various forces appeared to announce their victories to the citizens of Angiers, but the burghers persisted in their demands for more definite proof. At last, Faulconbridge suggested that they destroy the city walls and continue to fight until one side or the other was conquered. Arrangements for the battle brought on more talk, for the citizens suggested a peace settlement among the forces and promised entrance to the city if Blanch of Castile were affianced to the Dauphin of France.
John gladly offered certain provinces as Blanch’s dowry, and it was agreed that the vows should be solemnized. Faulconbridge analyzed John’s obvious motive: It was better to part with some parcels of land and keep the throne than to lose his kingdom in battle.
Constance, displaying the persistence and tenacity of a mother who wished to see justice done to her child, doubted that the proposed alliance would succeed; she wished to have the issue settled in battle. Her hopes rose when Cardinal Pandulph appeared to announce John’s excommunication because of his abuse of the Archbishop of Canterbury. John, unperturbed by the decree of excommunication, denounced the pope. The alliance between France and England, the outgrowth of Lewis and Blanch’s marriage, could not stand, according to Pandulph, if France hoped also to avoid excommunication. King Philip wisely decided that it would be better to have England as an enemy than to be at odds with Rome.
His change of mind made war necessary. The battle ended with the English victorious. Faulconbridge beheaded the Archduke of Austria. Arthur was taken prisoner. When Hubert de Burgh pledged his unswerving support to the king, John told him of his hatred for Arthur. He asked that the boy be murdered. Grieved by her separation from Arthur, Constance lamented that she would never see her son again. Even in heaven, she said, she would be denied this blessing because Arthur’s treatment at the hands of the English would change him from the gracious creature he had been. Pandulph, unwilling to let John have easy victory, persuaded Lewis to march against the English forces. The cardinal explained that with Arthur’s death—and news of French aggression would undoubtedly mean his death—Lewis, as Blanch’s husband, could claim Arthur’s lands.
In England, Hubert de Burgh had been ordered to burn out Arthur’s eyes with hot irons. Although Hubert professed loyalty to John, he had become attached to Arthur while the boy was in his charge. Touched by Arthur’s pleas, he refused to carry out King John’s orders. After hiding Arthur in another part of the castle, he went to tell John of his decision. On his arrival at the palace, however, he found Pembroke and Salisbury, in conference with the king, pleading for Arthur’s life. The people, they reported, were enraged because of John’s dastardly action; they threatened to withdraw their fealty to the cruel king. John’s sorrow was increased by the information that a large French army had landed in England and that Elinor was dead. Faulconbridge, who had been collecting tribute from monks, appeared with Peter of Pomfret, a prophet. When Peter prophesied that John would lose his crown at noon on Ascension Day, John had Peter jailed and ordered his execution if the prophecy were not fulfilled.
Told of Hubert de Burgh’s refusal to torture Arthur, the king, overjoyed, sent his chamberlain in pursuit of Pembroke and Salisbury to tell them the good news. Arthur, however, fearful for his welfare, had attempted escape from the castle. In jumping from the wall, he fell on the stones and was killed. When Hubert overtook the lords and blurted his tidings, he was confronted by information and proof that Arthur was dead. Pembroke and Salisbury sent word to John that they could be found with the French.
Harried at every turn—deserted by his nobles, disowned by his subjects, attacked by his former ally—John, on Ascension Day, surrendered his crown to Cardinal Pandulph, thus fulfilling Peter’s prophecy. He received it back only after he had acknowledged his vassalage to the pope. In return, Pandulph was to order the French to withdraw their forces. Opposed to such arbitration, however, Faulconbridge secured John’s permission to engage the French. Lewis, now the King of France, rejected Pandulph’s suit for peace. His claim was that officious Rome, having sent neither arms, men, nor money for France’s cause in opposing John’s hereticism and deviltry, should remain neutral.
Under the direction of Faulconbridge, the English made a strong stand against the French. The defaulting barons, advised by Melun, a dying French lord, that Lewis planned their execution if France won the victory, returned to the king and received his pardon for their disloyalty. John’s graciousness to his barons and his new alliance with Rome, however, brought him only momentary happiness. He was poisoned at Swinstead Abbey and died after intense suffering.
After his death. Cardinal Pandulph was able to arrange a truce between the English and French. Prince Henry was named King of England. King Lewis returned home to France. Faulconbridge, brave, dashing, and vainglorious, swore his allegiance to the new king. His and England’s pride was expressed in his words that England had never been and would never be at a conqueror’s feet, except when such a position might lead to future victories.
CRITICAL EVALUATION
An uneven product of William Shakespeare’s early period and one of his first history plays, King John is neither as good as it might have been nor as bad as it has been considered. Written entirely in verse, the play sometimes fails to distinguish among the various characters in its portrayal of their speech—almost homogeneously filled with conceits and wordplays that, only in the case of Faulconbridge, fit the personality who speaks them. Its themes include the relationship between fortune and the individual’s nature, the powerful finality of a king’s words, the corrupt and conniving influence of the Church, and the degree of individual responsibility in the face of a leader’s folly. This last is studied in Act IV, when John upbraids Hubert for taking him at his word in killing young Arthur; he tells Hubert that a king, too, has moods and his followers must protect him from his rash emotions. In general, as the brief abdication scene in the first part of Act V demonstrates, King John is generically a part of the de casibus virorum illustrium (“the fall of illustrious men”) motif popular in medieval and Renaissance literature.
The play suffers from structural deficiencies that suggest Shakespeare had not yet mastered that peculiarly difficult combination of historical verisimilitude and artistic inspiration, that is, giving psychologically convincing motivation to actions that are “givens” of historical record. When Blanch and Lewis fall in love to order, when Pandulph enters as a deus ex machina to alter the course of events dramatically and unpredictably, when Faulconbridge carries Austria’s head across the stage, when young Arthur whimsically decides to escape and kills himself, and when Lewis’s rebuff to Pandulph goes unanswered, we suspect that Shakespeare nods. Yet Arthur’s speech on his sadness, Hubert’s mercy, Faulconbridge’s touching pardon of his mother’s folly, his saucy exchange with Austria, and Constance’s speech about the fears of a queen, a woman, and a mother all contain the fertile seeds that would blossom into the full flower of Shakespeare’s imagination.
—Joseph Rosenblum
FILM ADAPTATIONS
1984–85 BBC Shakespeare Production
This adaptation, directed by David Giles, starred Leonard Rossiter as King John; William Whymper as Chatillon; Mary Morris as Queen Elinor; Robert Brown as Earl of Pembroke; John Castle as Earl of Salisbury; John Flint as Lord Bigot; George Costigan as Philip; and Claire Bloom as Constance.
In his 1984 essay on “The Production” (19–30) in a booklet the BBC published to coincide with the first broadcast of this version, Henry Fenwick quoted director David Giles as noting the “‘eccentric’” and diminishing nature of the title character, adding that the play’s vitality depends on the character named Philip (19). He saw this as a “philosophical” play that “very much relies on the interplay of actors”—one that depends for its success on actual performance but also presumes knowledge both of English history and of another play about this king, even though the present play was completely Shakespeare’s (20). Explaining that Elizabethans were especially interested in King John as an opponent of the Roman Catholic Church and as a king who had defied the pope, Giles considered the work stylized and said it is divided into three parts (consisting of Act 1, Acts 2 and 3, and then Acts 4 and 5). He noted the absence of battle scenes and asserted that stylized plays, like this one, are harder to do on television than realistic ones, although he considered this one more realistic in certain scenes (22–23). Juanita Waterson, the costume designer, discussed the details of the stylized clothing at length, noting the differences between the clothes of the French and English courts. Meanwhile, George Costigan, playing Philip, outlined the challenges of that role, with his emphasis on joking, heroics, morality, and the play’s support for kingship if not for King John himself (25). Giles, seeing Philip as voicing the feelings of the audience, especially their patriotic love of England, also noted his close relationship with Queen Elinor in a play lacking many close relationships (25–26). Mary Morris discussed playing Elinor—a role she deliberately did not research lest doing so might hamper her performance, although she emphasized the queen’s desire that John be king (26–27). Claire Bloom, as Constance, saw this character as heroic, vicious, angry, frightening, politically passionate, intelligent, and complex in the language she uses (27–28). Giles, the director, emphasized the play’s interest in betrayals, cynicism, and psychopathy (especially John’s), as well as John’s inconsistency. Giles also valued the way television makes it easy to film “‘asides and soliloquies’” (29–30).
J. C. Bulman and H. R. Coursen, in their pioneering anthology Shakespeare on Television, surveyed and quoted from a number of early reviews of this production. One critic, writing for the Times Literary Supplement, called the broadcast “very credible,” praised Bloom’s “moving” performance as Constance, wrote that Mary Morris played Elinor “with poisonous aplumb,” felt that Rossiter was best during John’s decline, and considered Costigan’s performance “very engaging.” Another commentator, in the Times Educational Supplement, also admired the performances of Rossiter, Costigan, and Bloom and praised the production as a whole. Writing for the London Times, a third reviewer agreed about these actors’ performances but found the sets unimpressive (310), while a writer for the New York Times said essentially the same thing (310–11). A reviewer for the Boston Globe once again admired the performances of the three major actors as well as the contrasting visual presentations of the French and English courts but in the end called the production “pretty tedious viewing,” while a lengthy article in the Christian Science Monitor called King John “a play of particular moral force and uncommon imagery” but said “its force seldom comes forth in this effort,” perhaps because most of the people involved “really seem not to believe in the play.” Praising the work’s language but disliking the BBC version’s sets and costumes, this reviewer did commend Bloom and Costigan (but not Rossiter) and suggested that the director may have been “too hasty to set up scenes and breeze through them, as though they can be tossed off” (311).
R. Scott Colley, assessing the play for the Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, thought that “through much of the production, [director] Giles seems to have been trying simply to avoid a rout.” Writing that “Giles’s interpretation … intensifies the declamatory nature of the play,” so that “[t]ight groups of actors strenuously recite their lines,” Colley considered it “too bad that the production is sometimes lifeless, for there are bright moments and some skillful acting. The late Leonard Rossiter, a quirky, mannered comic actor, surprisingly brings both menace and desperation to the role of King John,” while Colley also praised various other actors, including George Costigan and Jonathan Coy. But he ended by saying that he would “not show [this production] to my classes” for fear that “the play and the interpretation will confirm some snap judgments my students may have reached about Shakespeare. … Some television productions can come to life in a studio. This one did not” (5).
Geraldine Cousin, in her 1994 book on King John in performance (84–100), described this production’s three-part design, built around acts I, II–III, and IV–V (85) and wrote that the “toy-town quality of the setting was particularly effective in Act II” (86). She considered the “stylised costumes and setting” particularly “effective in Act II, where they reduced the bombast of the characters to the posturings of animated dolls,” but she thought that “the cardboard cut-out battlements worked less well for Arthur’s death leap in IV.iii.” Calling Act II “basically satiric” and asserting that “the pretty costumes and pastel shades of the set helped to make this point when seen in contrast with adult actors,” she wrote that “Arthur’s death, however, is tragic, and placing a round-faced boy actor within the toy-world had the effect of completely destroying any sense of the credibility of his death” (87). Although arguing that Philip’s direct speeches into the camera undermine any possibility of realism in this production, Cousin not only considered these the most effective speeches but also praised George Costigan’s performance of his role (88), saying he played the character as “an intelligent, likeable man, a little cocky to begin with but compassionate and caring, particularly towards his mother” and toward Elinor, whom he admired as she admired him (89). Cousin thought that Claire Bloom, as Constance, “offered a reappraisal of the character” by making her seem “quieter” and “more restrained” than usual and also by making her seem “eminently sane and reasonable” (92). Cousin commented on the placing of the interval (92); said the costumes helped “enhance the public roles of the characters” (97); and concluded that except for “its portrayal of Constance and, in some respects, of Blanche, the television King John was fundamentally a conservative” but still effective interpretation. She admired the way “it made generally available a relatively unknown Shakespearean play” and said it “had the further advantage of offering valuable insights into the relationship in the play between individual and role” (100).
Michael Manheim, in a 1994 essay titled “The English History Play on Film,” praised the BBC production’s “solid realism,” its stress on “relentless instability,” the performance of George Costigan (139), and also the performances of the actresses (139–40). Ultimately, however, he found the production “sterile” and “less rich in action than in costuming and décor,” and, especially in the absence of battles, displaying “no sense of real brutality and carnage” (140).
Commenting briefly on this production in his 2013 book Small-Screen Shakespeare (122–24), Peter Cochran noted that although King John is now one of the least-performed of Shakespeare’s works, in the 1800s it was quite popular. He called this production “well-acted but under-directed,” with poor lighting, overblown costumes, and seemingly unfinished sets (122). He admired the actor playing Falconbridge, especially for his “straightforward language” (123); praised Claire Bloom as Constance despite the problems with the set, lighting, camera work, and tedious direction; and particularly praised Leonard Rossiter as John (123) but mocked the set once again (124).
Bibliography
Bulman, James C., and Herbert R. Coursen, eds. Shakespeare on Television: An Anthology of Essays and Reviews. UP of New England, 1988.
Cochran, Peter. Small-Screen Shakespeare. Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2013.
Colley, R. Scott. “BBC-TV ‘King John.’” Shakespeare on Film Newsletter, vol. 10, no. 1, 1985, p. 5.
Cousin, Geraldine. Shakespeare in Performance: King John. Manchester UP, 1994.
Fenwick, Henry. “The Production.” The Shakespeare Plays: King John, edited by John Wilders, et al., BBC, 1984, pp. 19–30.
Manheim, Michael. “The English History Play on Screen.” Shakespeare and the Moving Image, edited by Anthony Davies and Stanley Wells, Cambridge UP, 1994, pp. 121–45.