Henry IV 

Reviewed by Vanessa Cate 
The Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles 
Through July 1 

So, you’re considering putting down the money and making the three-plus hour commitment to see the Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles’ production of Henry IV. And — if we’re being honest — you’re probably doing so because of the star power of the production. So, let’s cut to the chase: Yes, Tom Hanks is good. (Did you honestly think he wouldn’t be?) The acting veteran — who is as renowned for his likability as he is for his talent — is just as engaging as you would hope as Shakespeare’s infamous Falstaff. His transformation is so impressive, and the opportunity to see his Los Angeles stage debut so special, that it’s easy to overlook an uneven and overly traditional production, especially with a few other jewels that shine in the cast.

Henry IV is comprised of two plays. Following Richard II and leading up to Henry V in a historical tetralogy, this somewhat abridged version could have mercifully been pared down quite a bit more. Usurper Henry Bolingbroke (or this play’s titular character, played by Joe Morton) sits on the throne. He dreams of a crusade to the Holy Land of Jerusalem, but he is plagued by rebellion closer to home. If that weren’t enough to weigh on the mind of an aging monarch, his son Hal (Hamish Linklater) is going through a horrible defiant phase of young adulthood. Instead of attending to his princely duties, Hal chooses to cavort with lowlifes and thieves. The main rascal among them is John Falstaff (Hanks) — a liar, a glutton, and an unlikely father figure for the impressionable Hal.

Already of little importance to the general modern audience, the 15^th-century history presented is dense and dry. More important are the two central relationships and the arcs of those characters. Luckily, between Hanks, Morton, and Linklater, the play fairly soars, even if it is weighed down by other factors. 

Tony Award winner Daniel Sullivan might be an acclaimed director, but he brings hardly anything innovative to the table here. Some use of the venue’s outdoor surroundings is the height of his directorial vision. Otherwise, disparate acting styles and traditional Shakespearean tropes claim the day.

Under Sullivan’s hand, the dense dialogue and imparting of historical information is ill-handled, and the show soon becomes a waiting game for the big-name actors to come onstage. Luckily the cast — although at times stylistically discordant — are of solid stock, and the leads bring a lot to the table irrespective of direction. The monumental exception is the ballistic rendering of Hotspur (played by Raffi Barsoumian whose choices should have been directorially guided). 

Morton’s turn as the King is as quintessentially Shakespearean as you could imagine — his delivery precise and cold but accomplished per the style. By contrast, Linklater’s Hal is natural and charismatic; his Hal is rakish and delightful, and serves as a bridge between the nearly impenetrable text and the modern audience. But it is his transformation into the man who would be King Henry V that is most impressive. Linklater is electric and convincing.

And then there is Hanks. Theatrical and natural both, he is the stylistic centerpiece and anchor for the entire show. Hanks’ transformation into the larger-than-life Falstaff is a testament not only to his undeniable talent, but to Holly Poe Durbin’s impeccable costume design.

The play hinges on the relationship between Falstaff and Hal, and luckily the two have a delightful chemistry. Their breakneck insult slinging is a comedic success, even when not politically correct. Even if the affection between the two characters isn’t adequately developed, it is enough to watch them work as individuals. 

This is a play about growing up and growing old, mortality and responsibility… from a decidedly masculine perspective. What can be said for the production’s racially diverse casting definitely cannot be said for female inclusion. The few women characters in the play are either submissive, fools, or bawdy whores — which simply doesn’t play for a modern audience. Surely, if we can cast colorblind, we can make similar strides to include at least one actress among the supporting ensemble. Emily Swallow’s talent shines, but that talent is nearly wasted in her two roles.

The Shakespeare Center of Los Angeles at the Japanese Garden on the West Los Angeles VA Campus, 11301 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles CA 90073 (adjacent to the Brentwood Theatre); Performances Tues.-Sun. 8 p.m.; through July 1; https://henryiv.org/. Running Time: 3 hours 15 minutes with one ten-minute intermission.