- When was it written? In or around 1597, possibly his 23rd play
- What’s it about? 200 years have passed since Henry IV Part 2, but John Falstaff is seemingly alive and well in Elizabethan England, up to his old tricks. He sends identical love letters to two married women, who compare notes, and lay a series of traps to humiliate him. Meanwhile, three suitors want to marry one of the women’s daughters, who ends up with the one she loves.
- Most famous dialogue: “Why then, the world’s mine oyster, which I with sword will open.”
- Sources: Some elements may have been adapted from “Il Pecorone,” a collection of stories by Ser Giovanni Fiorentino.
- Best insult: So many!
- “You Banbury Cheese”
- “I combat challenge of this latten bilbo” (I learned that the word “bilbo” refers to a flexible sword made in Bilboa, Spain.)
- “Froth and scum, thou liest”
- “O base Hungarian wight!”
- “Out of my door, you witch, you hag, you baggage, you polecat, you runyon!”
- “What, a hodge pudding? A bag of flax?” “A puffed man?” “Old, cold, withered and of intolerable entrails?” “And one that is as slanderous as Satan?” “And as poor as Job?” “And as wicked as his wife?” “And given to fornications, and to taverns and sack and wine and metheglins, and to drinkings and swearings and starings, pribbles and prabbles?”
- Best word: Anthropophaginian
- Best production of this play I’ve seen: I saw it in Stratford ON with Brian Dennehy as Falstaff and it was rather fun.
- Notable Names in the BBC Adaptation: It’s practically star-studded: Richard Griffiths (Mr. Dursley from Harry Potter) is Falstaff, Judy Davis is one of the wives and Ben Kingsley is her husband
- Wonderful. I saw Griffiths on Broadway in the very serious Equus, so I know he would probably do great with the more tragic material in Henry IV Parts 1 and 2, but he’s certainly great here as well in this strictly comedic take on the character. Ben Kingsley, the same year he had his big break-out as Gandhi, is delightful as a manic Mr. Ford, yet another of Shakespeare’s imaginary cuckolds (though he has more reason to be afeared than some).
- Very sprightly and funny. He wanted to shoot outdoors in the streets of Stratford, but was forced to stay in studio by the BBC. He nevertheless makes it feel airy and outdoorsy. My only complaint is that 2:45 is a bit too long for a lightweight (no pun intended) comedy, but blame Shakespeare for that.
The legend that has always trailed this play, whether it’s true or not, is that Queen Elizabeth saw the Henry IV plays (or possibly only the first one had come out at this point) and said she wanted more of Falstaff, so she requested a play where Sir John falls in love. Shakespeare then supposedly dashed this off quickly to satisfy the request, which has led to it being dismissed by later critics. (Personally, I find it to be carefully-constructed and very funny, so I dispute the claims that Shakespeare didn’t care about it.)
There will always be much debate about the veracity of this story, and what the timeline might have been, and what we can possibly know about what actually went down.
But let’s suppose that it’s all true, and this play really was written to give the queen a play where John Falstaff falls in love. This begs the question that is never answered, not even in the wildest speculation: What did the queen think of the new play? Did she feel it satisfied her request?
The answer is: Surely not. Falstaff doesn’t fall in love! He pursues two married women, and it’s a bit unclear if he’s going for sex or money, but love is right out. He’s barely chagrined that his plans don’t work out, and ends the play happily single, as he began it.
Did Shakespeare have contempt for his queen’s request? Did he feel it would violate the character to have him actually fall in love, whether happily or unrequitedly? Did he feel that she didn’t really want what she thought she wanted, and would have actually been horrified to see Falstaff overcome his wicked ways (“old, cold, withered and of intolerable entrails”), so he crafted a play that he knew would actually please her more? History, and even wild conjecture, tells us nothing. Certainly, she had the power to punish Shakespeare in various ways (from killing him to withdrawing his charter) and didn’t, so she can’t have been that upset.
Do audiences want characters to grow and change in sequels, or do they want more of the same? If they insist on the former, should writers confidently assume they really want the latter? Shakespeare, if this backstory is true, defied his queen and wrote a very funny play, which hopefully amused her though it might have frustrated her.
I, for one, would have loved to see Shakespeare actually try to satisfy her request, and try to write a play in which Falstaff moved from gut to heart, but I love this play, too, which stays firmly in the gut. Whether Shakespeare felt this was what Elizabeth truly wanted to see, or simply what he himself truly wanted to write, or perhaps if he felt this was all Falstaff could be, we have to respect his decision.