Photo By: Erika Boxler

Henry V

The most emblematic image in director-adaptor (with co-adaptor Joe McGovern) Guillermo Cienfuegos’ brashly expressionistic, modern-dress revival of Henry V — a production that is positively chock-full with virtuoso show-stoppers of directorial invention and license — comes in an early flashback.

That’s when Prince Hal (McGovern) strips off his black hoodie on hearing of the death of Henry IV (Alex Fernandez) and reveals underneath a tee shirt for the thrash-metal band Slayer that McGovern’s King Henry V will wear for the duration.

Both the flashback and the Henry IV cameo are, of course, the invention of Cienfuegos and McGovern; neither Henry IV nor Falstaff (Dennis Madden), who also guest-stars here, actually appear in Shakespeare’s Henry V. But, fair enough; this Slayer fan, the director is saying, is a born slayer — a manic, rock ‘n’ roll killer of any who might come between him and the interests of his realm.

Unfortunately, that’s not quite what McGovern delivers in his stolid, granite-chiseled portrayal of Shakespeare’s prank-prone carouser-turned national leader and war hero. This dispassionate slayer rolls more like the Terminator.

Even so, that’s not a bad hook. Of the entire history play canon, Henry V and its money-shot Agincourt battle sequence may be the closest the Bard ever came to writing a well-oiled and rousing, action-driven Hollywood war movie. It is even replete with the iambic pentameter equivalent of CGI — namely, the scene-setting prologues that are delivered as soliloquies by the Chorus (Fernandez).

But Cienfuegos and McGovern aim for something far more ambitious. Namely, by folding in scenes from the other Henry plays that comprise Shakespeare’s Prince Hal bildungsroman trilogy, the director and actor attempt to construct a triangular portrait of filial psychology — between Hal; Falstaff, with his genuine affection; and Henry IV, an embodiment of emotionally distant statesmanship — that might crack the enigma of a kingship capable of both the brutality of Agincourt and the courtly romancing of Princess Katherine (an outstanding Carole Weyers).

Against this, Cienfuegos foreshadows the highly dysfunctional relationship between the King of France (Madden) and the Dauphin (Terrance Elton) that the director has escalated into physical dauphin abuse.

In theory, it’s a fascinating concept. But among Henry V’s many virtues is the script’s tight construction. And the cost to the staging’s energy and momentum by Cienfuegos’ incessant cutaways to pregnant moments lifted from the earlier plays proves crippling. Despite fine support from a capable ensemble (Including Yancy Holmes, Michael Prichard, Norman Scott, Tracie Lockwood and standout Oscar Best), the results are not unlike how The Dirty Dozen might have played with John Cassavetes as director instead of Robert Aldrich.—Bill Raden

Pacific Resident Theatre, 707 Venice Blvd., Venice; Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m.; through April 20. (310) 822-8392.