Sunday, November 22, 2009

A Man for All Seasons



Robert Bolt's A Man for All Seasons is one of the greatest plays of the 20th Century. Bolt's witty, insightful and moving portrayal of Sir Thomas More's stand against the English Reformation has a timeless universality, as evidenced by its frequent revivals (most recently with Frank Langella) and perennial popularity. Men of principle never go out of style, and along with Jean Anouilh's Becket and Arthur Miller's The Crucible, Man remains just as powerful as the day it was written.

Fred Zinnemann's 1966 movie is a fine adaptation. Bolt adapts his own work for the screen, streamlining its more theatrical elements but keeping its message and power intact. Zinnemann's sumptuous pageantry certainly makes things cinematic. But the film would be nothing without Paul Scofield, reprising his Tony Award-winning stage performance to immaculate effect.

Sir Thomas More (Paul Scofield) is a scholar, author, devout Catholic, devoted family man and friend of England's Henry VIII (Robert Shaw). Henry seeks a divorce from Catherine of Aragon so he can marry Anne Boleyn (Vanessa Redgrave), but the Pope refuses to grant it - leading to Henry's fateful schism with Rome. More becomes Chancellor after the death of Cardinal Wolsey (Orson Welles), but cannot reconcile his faith with Henry's actions. After More's resignation, Henry sics ruthless hatchet man Thomas Cromwell (Leo McKern) on him. Cromwell does everything to bring More to heel, using his friend Norfolk (Nigel Davenport) to provide friendly pressure and changing the law to criminalize More's dissent. But More is immovable, forcing Cromwell to rely on the ambitious Richard Rich (John Hurt) to bring about More's downfall.

Way back in high school I read Man for an English class. Since then I've read the play dozens of times, even performing bits of it in drama classes. It's a brilliant piece of work, from Bolt's elegant verbal architecture to the perfectly drawn characters. Admittedly not the most morally complex work, its power lies in its directness and universality. The play is smart without being self-impressed, accessible without indulging in anachronism, simple yet profound.

Man portrays Sir Thomas More as the ultimate man of conscience. No pressure, no argument can shake his devotion; he can answer any debate, is indifferent to his Earthly fate, and even his family loses out to his worship of God. He is understanding when his friends and family refuse to support him; he passes no judgment on his wife (Wendy Hiller) and daughter (Susannah York), or his friend Norfolk, for bending to the King's will. His struggle is an entirely personal one: "I have no window into another man's conscience. I condemn no one." More's persecution belies Cromwell's pretensions to justice, as "a state that was half-good" couldn't conceivably view him as an enemy.

Historians not unreasonably object to this view of More, who harshly repressed Lutherans while serving as Chancellor. Bolt, the socialist playwright, depicts More as a very 20th Century intellectual dissident, finding solace in "himself" rather than Catholic dogma. Beyond complaining about historical inaccuracy, some critics even view Man as Catholic propaganda, promoting what historian Richard Marius terms the Church's "overblown tyranny" and institutional corruption over Tudor reforms.

Focusing on the religious aspect misses the point. Bolt prefers the universality of More's predicament: Who among us hasn't been forced to had to compromise their beliefs? Bolt's More is a beautifully-realized protagonist, a man of integrity rather than expedience. He's an idol for anyone who's been forced to choose between a job, opportunity or relationship and their conscience. Certainly one wishes More's view that political amorality "leads [a] country by a short route to chaos" had a wider audience!


Bolt uses the supporting cast to highlight More's morality. The capricious Henry wishes to overturn centuries of law and tradition for an ephemeral flirtation. Norfolk joins Henry without a moment's thought; he can't see why More chooses spiritual matters over temporal. (Oddly the film overlooks Norfolk's relationship to Anne Boleyn!) Cromwell's blind loyalty to Henry overwhelms moral considerations, while Rich's power-hunger trumps all. These insecure, flawed men desire More's approval, which itself would legitimize their cause. His very silence rebukes the King's actions; when More won't support them, he must be destroyed.

Bolt's adaptation jettisons some of the play's complexity. Supporting characters are drawn more broadly and certain scenes don't play as strongly on film (namely Cromwell's "seduction" of Rich) as a result. The play's "Common Man," a Brechtian narrator who assays various minor parts, is excised for obvious reasons. Spanish Ambassador Chapuys is similarly lost. But the meat of the story remains, in its protagonist, themes and powerful dialogue: "When you are sent to Heaven for doing your conscience and I am sent to Hell for not doing mine, will you come with me for fellowship?"

Fred Zinnemann opens the story up just enough to be cinematic, granting the characters and dialogue center stage. Zinnemann makes striking use of water imagery, particularly the scenes of More rowing down the Thames River, serving to illustrate More's changing status and the inconstancy of Henry's court. John Box's gorgeous production design (most of the locations are actually Shepperton sets), Joan Bridge and Jackie Cumming's striking costumes, and Ted Moore's wonderful cinematography are absolutely beautiful. Georges Delerue contributes a nice period score.

Paul Scofield was a brilliant stage actor with few film apperances (The Train). Scofield is a brilliantly subtle actor, with his rich voice and expressive eyes, giving a performance that's both theatrical and intimate at once. He conveys every line, gesture and glance with perfection, calm and reserved when needed, loud and commanding when called for. It is a peerless performance; rarely was an Oscar more deserved, even against stiff competition like Richard Burton and Steve McQueen.


Wendy Hiller (Pygmalion) is wonderful as More's wife, alternating between exasperation and devotion to her man. Susannah York (Tunes of Glory) gets the big emotional scenes pleading her father to see reason. Leo McKern (Ryan's Daughter) infuses Cromwell with a coarse charm that makes him all the more hateful. A young John Hurt (V For Vendetta) perfectly captures Rich's ambition, and Nigel Davenport (A High Wind in Jamaica) provides some welcome humor as Norfolk.

Robert Shaw's boisterous Henry and Orson Welles's devious Wolsey make such strong impressions that one forgets their minimal screen time. Corin Redgrave (The Charge of the Light Brigade), Colin Blakeley (Saturday Night and Sunday Morning), Jack Gwillim (Lawrence of Arabia) and Cyril Luckham (Anne of the Thousand Days) play supporting roles. Vanessa Redgrave cameos as Anne Boleyn.

Whatever losses occurred in the adaptation, A Man for All Seasons remains a powerful, beautifully-made drama.

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