I was standing at the bar at Chicago Shakespeare before “Henry V” when I noticed the unsettling figure in gray camo pants, a sweaty gray tank-top, combat boots and a ski mask leaning against one of the lobby’s surrounding glass walls. Then I started noticing the others, one slumped on a chair, another hanging out for patrons to pass as they headed toward the restrooms.
Atmospherics, of course. Edward Hall, the play’s director and the theater’s leader, wants to get us oriented, put us in a mood. In this case, the feeling was disquieting, but also unclear: Were these riff-raffish folks here to menace or protect?
I think it’s exactly that ambiguity that Hall is going for. Given leadership, they could do damage.
These characters become members of our chorus and, ultimately, the English army in Hall’s fluid and mostly engaging production of “Henry V.” Earlier on, they’re anarchic punksters singing “London Calling” by The Clash. Later in Shakespeare’s history play, they win a war.
They rise to this occasion, the play so clearly implies, because of King Henry V, or as he’s more commonly called, Harry, or Hal. This is the Harry who had, in his youth depicted in the two parts of Shakespeare’s “Henry IV,” rebelled against his responsibilities and cavorted with Falstaff and his band of petty thieves (who would probably take jobs as security guards and then rob you themselves, which is sort of what those hanging in the lobby seem inclined to do). Then his father died, and Hal became the very responsible Henry V.
Hall has cast Harry here with Elijah Jones, a recent Juilliard grad making his Chicago debut. Unlike the British punk reference for his old drinking buddy Nym (Scott Aiello, with pink mohawk), Jones’ Harry comes off as very contemporary African-American: cornrow braids, a suit that’s a size too big, some swagger. Hall refers in the program to this king as “streetwise.” Jones brings that quality, making his Harry seem capable of seeing through people, out-smarting some, connecting with others. He delivers the verse with aplomb, and very occasionally he gives Shakespeare’s poetry a rhythmic touch of R&B, particularly when he switches to seduction mode to woo the French Princess Katherine (Courtney Rikki Green).
Persuaded that he has a righteous claim to rule France and, given impetus by an insulting gift from the French Dauphin (Alejandra Escalante), Jones’ King Henry decides to go to war. (On the one hand, Harry’s choice is like Putin’s, starting an optional war based on long-ago claims with a desire to restore a nation’s sense of greatness; on the other, and certainly in rooting terms, he’s Zelensky, an absurdly unlikely ruler inspiring an underdog army to valiant heights. Discuss.)
“Henry V” contains Shakespeare’s, and the world’s, greatest motivational speech, sufficient to turn the tired into the energized, defeat into victory and, in Hall’s version, ne’er-do-wells into heroes. At Agincourt, with his troops exhausted and sick and outnumbered five to one by French forces, Harry galvanizes his charges with the promise of eternal glory and connectedness: “This story shall the good man teach his son;/ And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,/ From this day to the ending of the world,/ But we in it shall be remember’d;/ We few, we happy few, we band of brothers ….”
What’s problematic here is that this speech, and other of the play’s most famous scenes, come more glossily general than climactic or nuanced. They don’t seem to fully connect with what’s happening dramatically, and they’re pitched at a frantic, steady volume. They don’t build.
The strength of this production is not in the play’s best-known sequences, but in what really is an exceptional ensemble cast, most playing multiple roles and bringing lively personality to all. Escalante is a rakish Dauphin, but also an immensely likable Mistress Quickley (in a beautiful rag of a wedding dress by designer Michael Pavelka). Green charms as Katherine, but also has a fleeting, moving moment as a young lad deciding to change who he keeps company with. Demetrios Troy plays both a nobleman and a comic figure in Pistol who makes Harry and the audience choke up when he expresses his devotion. I could go on and on: Kate Fry’s take on Katherine’s governess; Rachel Crowl as the Welsh, confident mis-pronouncer Fluellen; subtle, surprisingly moving turns by Donte Bonner as Henry’s uncle-advisor and Jaylon Muchison as the French emissary, and others too.
This is one of those productions where the core storytelling comes off as standard, but the crevices of Shakespeare’s play are delivered with zest.