Three Truly Great Performances Make Lean “Henry IV” a Must-See

By Greggory Moore, Columnist

Hold your letters to the editor: we know that Henry IV is not one but two plays. But on June 28 Shakespeare by the Sea started touring their own amalgam of both parts of Henry IV, sifted and compounded to fit in a standard two-hour time slot. 

It’s a less dubious endeavor than your average purist might think. As good as Henry IV, Part One is, like plenty of Shakespeare there’s some fat that can be trimmed without harming the play’s essence; and without Part Two, its clearly inferior partner, we are denied the satisfying arc and scope of young Hal’s maturation from profligate prince to maybe the greatest warrior-king in England’s history.

Director Stephanie Coltrin’s conflation of the two texts extracts everything we need from each and weaves them together to form a seamless storyline. But her great work on this front is somehow one-upped by what she does with actors perfectly cast in the three lead roles.

While this play may be called “Henry IV,” it’s Hal, his partner-in-crime Falstaff, and the hothead rebel Hotspur who are the central figures. From the start, Trevor Guyton’s Hal is a warm and witty bon vivant who can’t help being aware of being above the company he keeps. Whether in the midst of a drunken jape or confronting the heavy burden of being next in line to the throne, he knows he’s a slacker and knows he can’t stay this way forever. 

This is all the more difficult because Hal, a huge disappointment to his king/father, gets a lot of avuncular love from the wastrel Falstaff. Cylan Brown was born for this role. Sometimes lesser casting reduces Falstaff to a fat clown, the wide butt of a lot of jokes; but what makes him Shakespeare’s greatest comic character (that’s the consensus, at least) is both his humanity — he’s not simply an object of ridicule but a living, breathing, feeling subject — and that he’s usually in on the joke, even when the joke’s on him. He’s highly self-aware and doesn’t take himself too seriously. (“There lives not three good men unhanged in England,” Falstaff laments to Hal, “and one of them is fat, and grows old.”) Brown, who’s done excellent work over the course of his 14 years with Shakespeare by the Sea (including directing someone else as Falstaff in The Merry Wives of Windsor), has never been better—couldn’t be better. We laugh both at and with him exactly as Shakespeare intended, and we are cut to the quick when the newly-crowned King Henry the Fifth rejects him.

Fantastic casting of Hal and Falstaff — including the genuine rapport between Guyton and Brown — would by itself be enough to highly recommend this Henry IV. That Johnathan Fisher is equally good as Hotspur is an embarrassment of riches. Hotspur is another highly self-aware character (as are all the Bard’s best), valuing frankness and decisiveness while owning that at times his enthusiasms may get the better of him. He’s all attitude, and Coltrin and Fisher not only make the most of every stammer and outburst, every insult and loss of patience, but at II, iii, 18–21 they find a laugh I’ll bet the Bard himself didn’t see coming. Without a fab Hotspur, Henry IV we’d be in for a let-down whenever both Guyton and Brown are offstage. The inclusion of Fisher means there’s most always someone treading the boards we can’t take our eyes off.

The rest of the casting is more of a mixed bag. There’s nothing not to like about Hal’s drinking pals — Coltrin does great work bringing these group scenes to life, particularly when Hal and Falstaff take turns playing the king. But having Jane Macfie play the man himself is a choice more informed by the idea of gender-queering a role simply for the hell of it (quite trendy these days) than by finding the best fit, and so Henry IV’s father-son dynamics — which are central to the play — never quite work. 

Although Coltrin wisely uses far more of Part One than Part Two for her Henry IV, she can’t avoid a let-down after intermission, partly because of the unavoidable inclusion of a battle scene — probably the scourge of many a production even in Shakespeare’s day. (Film can accommodate this issue far better than theatre.) 

The worst thing about this Henry IV is the generic, piped-in music. Shakespeare by the Sea makes this part of every show. It generally works well enough over scene changes, and now and again it adds something to a particular dramatic moment. But Coltrin’s use of it in Henry IV is generally ill-advised, at times actually working at cross-purposes to the onstage action. When Brown is forced to deliver one of Falstaff’s comedic monologs over a brooding bit of musical flotsam, it’s unforgivable.

For all that, there’s something special about the idea of Shakespeare in the park, where classic stories and language from four centuries ago unfold against a background of street traffic and a bounce-house party off to the left. Adorned in sumptuous costumes (kudos, Jeffrey Schoenberg) as they strut and fret their hour upon the minimal stage erected at the Recreation Park bandshell, the actors never missed a beat even when fireworks exploded mid-line.

But it’s the work of Henry IV’s three leads, the perfect match of actor to character, paired with a meticulous dramaturgy that milks Shakespeare’s genius for all it’s worth, that makes this particular show a rare delight. File under: MUST-SEE.

Shakespeare by the Sea will bring its 2024 season tour to a close on Saturday, August 3, with a 7pm performance of Henry IV at 22nd Street Park (140 W. 22nd St.). Between now and then, check out shakespearebythesea.org or call (310) 217-7596 for other performances/locations, including Los Angeles, Torrance, Palos Verdes, and Beverly Hills. As always, all performances are free, but consider making a donation, as Shakespeare by the Sea is particularly underfunded this time around.