Among Henries, the Sixth never gets quite the same attention as his predecessors. In the canon of Shakespeare’s histories, the chronicles of Henry IV (two plays often combined as one) and Henry V are far more popular. This makes a new production of all three parts of Henry VI (along with its historical follow-up, Richard III) notable. A rapturous review of this new interpretation of the cycle notes the many values of the Henry VI plays as well as their recent stage history. As the author notes, the plays have evolved from a kind of Tudor pageant to a more complex historical opus in the past half century.

One of the main points that dogs the Henry VI plays is the questionable authorship of the first play in the trilogy. Written very early in Shakespeare’s career while young Will was in his early twenties, many have questioned exactly how much Shakespeare contributed to the initial installment. As the reviewer notes, some editions have published the plays under alternate titles derived from Quarto editions of the plays (rather than the standard Folio texts used). Some even choose to exclude the first part altogether on the basis of its iffy authorship.

Finally, some take umbrage at treating the history plays in any kind of grouping because they were not written in chronological order. I am inclined to take the more relaxed perspective adopted by the reviewer. The history plays are like a large family: wildly different, not always functional as a group, but stuck with each other for good or ill.

When Kenneth Branagh filmed his unedited Hamlet in 1996, it elicited a variety of responses. Some carped about the sheer length of the film (four hours plus), while others questioned the integrity of the text (e.g. which versions are we using/combining to create this “complete” Hamlet?). Regardless of your level of appreciation of the film, it does test the level of Bard fanaticism. By this logic, if you love Shakespeare’s words, the more of them there are, the happier you will be.

The Royal Shakespeare Company in England is taking this idea to the ultimate limit. They are producing no less than eight of The Bard’s plays as a history cycle: Richard II, Henry IV Parts I and II, Henry V, Henry VI Parts I, II and III, and Richard III. Though not written in this order, this sequence represents a chronological presentation of the plays. Shakespeare’s other two histories, King John and Henry VIII, do not feature any of the overlapping characters and story threads that the other eight do, which presumably explains their absence from this presentation. All told, this reportorial approach took nearly three years to prepare and would demand about twenty-four hours of the audience’s time to view in its entirety.

This is a bold undertaking in a number of ways. First, it demands the consistency of a single, extended play, even though the works were not written that way. Secondly, the histories are generally less popular than the tragedies and comedies, with Henry V and Richard III getting most of the face time. If it succeeds, the RSC’s cycle will be nothing short of…uh…historical.

In the 1984 classic (at least to me) Revenge of the Nerds, the title misfits must temporarily live in a gym. As a result, a barrage of basketballs from the adjacent game practices often disrupted their daily activities. I use this example to highlight why many Minnesota locals are up in arms about a proposed complex that would house both a Shakespeare Festival and sporting events. While people are not necessarily worried about Falstaff getting beaned by a hockey puck a la Nerds, they are concerned about what they see as conflicting spatial demands.

What upsets people about this sportspeare arena (I should copyright that name) is the perceived hierarchy implied (i.e. that this is basically a sports complex into which a few Shakespeare productions will be shoehorned). This kafuffle highlights an ages-old battle between arts and athletics. On the educational level, both athletics and arts programs may be viewed as “ancillary” in that they are non-core subjects (despite the fact that participation in both improves performance in core classes). If funding becomes sparse, athletics departments are more likely to trump arts because of the revenue they generate (particularly at the university level). Part of me wishes it were possible for a complex to house artistic and sporting events equally well. If it could, perhaps the two disciplines would not be pitted against each other. Both playing a sport and acting in Shakespeare can contribute to a person’s growth. It is a shame then that they are so often stationed at opposite sides of the fence.

1. The greatest play written by William Shakespeare is:

(A) Hamlet
(B) A Midsummer Night’s Dream
(C) Henry IV
(D) Measure for Measure
(E) None of the above

Confused? Imagine being a teenager and facing the same question. Believe it or not, it’s possible. A recent news item mentioned that questions about Shakespeare were being included on a standardized test and, unfortunately, the results have not been good. That the test is given England proves how far the standardized test craze is spreading. According to the test, most of these U.K. youngsters need to brush up their Shakespeare.

The news is saddening, but not necessarily for the reasons the creators of the test might believe. It would certainly be impressive if students here or abroad knew Shakespeare (or even just a few of his plays) inside and out. His plays have been and continue to be almost universally present in school curricula. While this is a good thing, it is important to point out that for most high school kids, this is some of the most challenging reading they will encounter. Furthermore, are standardized tests really the best way to gauge students’ understanding of the plays? Questions will most likely fall into a few key categories: quote recognition, plot questions, and thematic questions. The first two are certainly empirical but don’t necessarily assess understanding of the works. The third question type does, but also must assume one, universal interpretation which is completely against the point of studying great literature. In trying to fit Shakespeare into neat little boxes, I’m afraid this test is going to leave more than a few children behind.

Soap opera actor Jeffrey Carlson is taking a break from his daytime drama All My Children to appear in Shakespeare’s Richard II (he recently played Hal in Henry IV as well). The actor has gained minor acclaim for portraying the first transgendered character on daytime televison. Aside from the change of pace, doing Shakespeare is, for any actor, a bid for credibility. For an example of this, see Keanu Reeves’s Canadian production of Hamlet in the 90’s, along with his dude-ular villain in the film Much Ado About Nothing. For a soap star, however, there is built in critical eye-rolling to contend with even before the first line is uttered.

Whether or not these actors succeed or fail, there is a curious parallel between soaps and Shakespeare. True, some of the dialogue, plotting, and acting on daytime drama lacks subtlety. Even so, is what these actors do on a daily basis all that different from the plots of Shakespeare? Death, deceit, adultery and loss are staples of all soap operas. If King Lear had more daughters, he could have his own soap, watching them marry, divorce and otherwise torment themselves. Soapdom is full of Lady Macbeths whose cunning ways make them fan favorites. Perhaps the clearest example comes from the recently deceased drama Passions. The show regularly showcased witches and magic, creating the kinds of ludicrous plot turns that we tend to forgive Shakespeare for because of his reputation and witty repartee. Maybe studio executives looking to reinvent the soap should take all of the characters from Shakespeare’s histories and dump them into a daytime drama called All My Princes. If it’s a hit, they could take the next step up on the food chain and fashion a nighttime soap. Desperate Queens, anyone?

A recent editorial noted that a former speech writer for President Bush had written an article on Shakespeare. The editorial’s author, who clearly was no fan of the president, found it ironic that a former Bush administration member (particularly one responsible for the much-discussed phrase “axis of evil”) would laud the complexity of Shakespeare’s characters. This writer found this oxymoronic in light of what he felt was the president’s simplistic nature. In doing so, the writer made an extended comparison between Bush and Hal from Shakespeare’s historical Henry cycle.

Rather than get myself in hot water by taking sides on the president or his policies, I would rather interrogate the validity of the writer’s comparison. This Hal/Bush pairing is puzzling coming on the heels of his assertion that Shakespeare is complex while Bush is rudimentary. Supporters of the president hail his undeterred sense of purpose in the face of much opposition while his detractors criticize his narrow-minded inflexibility. Both sides are addressing the same quality—one that in some ways might be more relatable to Greek drama than Shakespeare. Antigone’s Creon, with his unwavering belief in the state and his leadership of it, seems more applicable to Bush than characters like Hamlet, who are famous in part for their indecision. What the editorial does point to is that Shakespeare’s plays (like Greek drama) often follow people in power and what happens to them as they use (and often misuse) that power. As a result, they can provide points of comparison and analysis for politicians of any affiliation, both the inspiring and the inept.