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Falstaff on Honor: An Analysis of Roger Allam’s Falstaff

The filmed 2010 Globe production of Shakespeare’s Henry IV Part 1 presents the play in a light not often shown to the average audience. The movie is essentially a filmed stage play, crafted to be as close to the real Shakespearean experience as possible. Although the production, by virtue of existing in a traditional stage form, has some weaknesses in visually connecting to a modern audience, Roger Allam’s performance as Falstaff provides a central link to engaging the audience within the play. Falstaff’s diatribe on honor in Act V Scene I the night before the Battle of Shrewsbury is a key glimpse into his character, as well as a due counterpoint to the rest of the honor-driven play.

            A stage medium has several weaknesses, especially when compared to a modern movie adaptation. Setting and scenery are difficult to display on a bare Shakespearean stage, as are any effects or appropriate costumes. Stage productions rely on the viability of the performer’s live action – something that a Shakespearean in-house audience would arguably be more open to than a modern theatrical audience – which is hard to translate in a film setting.

            It is all the more extraordinary then; that an actor’s performance can be as enthralling as Allam’s. In Falstaff’s soliloquy on honor, Allam manages to convey much more about the character than the dialogue simply suggests. Just as intriguing as his take on the scene, however, is the Globe audience’s reaction to his performance.

            From the text of Henry IV, one can gather this much: Falstaff, nervous for the battle ahead, considers the purpose and value of honor. He rejects the concept that honor in itself is something worth fighting for. The dead cannot feel it, it is physically useless in healing wounds, and thus ultimately it’s insensible and worthless.

            Beyond that simple reading though, lie several pertinent questions. How well does the audience truly know Falstaff? To them he is a drunkard, a vain slothful barrel of an old man who cares for little more than enjoying money and life as he can. But at some point in his past he must have been different. Falstaff is after all a knight, as fallen as they come, but a knight nonetheless. Who knows what ideals he may have held in his youth, or the things that had happened to him to shape his character? His scathing view of honor can only come from past experience. Falstaff is an old soldier. He’s seen violent upheaval, battles, and the denouement of a king and has survived it all. His view of honor must be understood through this light.

            Allam’s Falstaff is throughout the play lively and witty, playing the comedic fool with a razor-sharp intellect visible underneath. This intelligence and weight comes to the fore in this scene. Much is said by staging as much as words. At the end of the scene, Hal and Falstaff are left alone the night before battle. Falstaff is notably wearing brown, dull colors and dirty armor, a direct contrast to the Hal in his bright tunic with the Prince of Wales’ colors and insignia. Small staging not mentioned in Shakespeare adds depth and realism to the scene. Something as small as the way Falstaff does not look at Hal when he says “I would twere bedtime, and all well” (5.1.125), expressing his anxiety by not daring to look Hal in the eye as he speaks is subtle and moving. Allam’s most effective instruments, however, are his tone and pacing.

            The pauses between lines, the serious tone, the ironic and tired attitude that Allam presents on the Globe stage perplexes the audience. Suddenly, a strong comedic character that has had them rolling all play long with his wit and words is deathly serious. The quietest moment is the most tense. The unexpectedly soft “Or take away the grief of a wound,” (5.1.132) is followed by a full five seconds of absolute silence, before Falstaff answers himself with a low “No” (5.1.132). The weight of an old soldier’s memories is so evident in that moment, so heavy, that when Allam raises the pitch and volume for the next line, the audience titters awkwardly. They’re used to laughing at the things Falstaff says, and they are almost uncomfortable with the sudden seriousness. The next line “Honor hath no skill in surgery then?” (5.1.132-133) isn’t really funny, there’s no inherent joke, but they laugh anyway.

            Allam’s delivery later, in his fanciful gestures at the word “Air,” (5.1.135) or in his curt dismissal of the fantasy of honor as something the living can hold onto for the dead, gives the audience a needed break to laugh. There’s the Falstaff they’re used to seeing, the ironic phrasing seemingly back into place. Interestingly, this keeps the seriousness of the moment from ringing false or out of character, and is a brilliant choice on Allam’s part.

            Allam’s Falstaff sharply contrasts the characters around him, when it comes to honor. Both Hal and Hotspur value and pursue honor, seeing it as a tangible object to strive for. The jaded Falstaff dismisses the concept entirely, but with a world of potential reasons and life experiences to explain why.

            Roger Allam received the Olivier Award for his performance of Falstaff on the Globe stage. His complete characterization of Falstaff was the most impressive part of the whole Globe production. It was humorous and lively, yet with an obvious intelligence and depth that led to an overall full-rounded presentation of the comedic character. With Allam in the role, Falstaff became not only the wise-cracking jester of Hal’s tavern court, but so much more.