Richard III (1955)Sometimes the machinations of a sneering villain can make for more interesting entertainment than the adventures of a hero. One suspects that this thought root in the mind of William Shakespeare when he wrote his black history of the last king of England of the Plantagenet dynasty, whose brief and tumultuous reign ended at the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485, an event which marked the end of the English civil war known as the "War of the Roses" as well as the Middle Ages. Thus was born a wild and terrible legend, which inspired Shakespeare's play, and in turn the adaptation for the screen by Lawrence Olivier--who portrays the conniving schemer--in Richard III (1955).
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As with the play, Richard III flourishes under the thrills induced by placing the most despicable of villains at the focus of our story, evoking intrigue and suspense in the audience by provoking interest in what the monstrous man will do next. The Machiavellian betrayals, the lies, the feigned romance Richard makes toward Lady Anne Neville (Claire Bloom), all of these scandals are so exciting and daring, it's no wonder that the tale is such an engrossing classic, and why Olivier had sought to adapt this film much earlier than he had. (The portrayal of internal strife and villainy within the royal court of England, however, meant this adaptation would have to wait until after World War II, during which Olivier brought forth a patriotic adaptation of Henry V instead.) If fans of the ongoing fantasy series, "A Song of Ice and Fire" by George R. R. Martin--known also as its HBO adaptation, "Game of Thrones"--find similarity in the scheming and discord among the nobility, it is because Martin's series was itself heavily influenced by the War of the Roses, and without a question, Shakespeare's play and likely Olivier's adaptation as well. Richard III literally sets the stage for this civil war, and like the other histories of Shakespeare, was devised to educate patrons of The Globe as well as entertain. Of course, this raises the question about whether Richard--onetime Duke of Gloucester, later King of England--was the damnable villain Shakespeare's drama sets him to be. Olivier's film begins with a preface discounting the likelihood, conceding that the story is a legend, but one where veracity is less important than the strength of the myth. Olivier's film was initially profitable, but its broadcast across American television is ultimately credited for popularizing Shakespearean adaptations. Richard III, like many adaptations, required some cuts in order to make the viewing more manageable for the intended audience, but retains some of the most quotable lines in all of the Bard's body of work. One in particular now bears special irony, delivered by Richard on the eve of his fateful Battle at Bosworth Field: "Here I will lie tonight. But where tomorrow?" On September 5th, 2012, the long lost remains of Richard III were discovered underneath a parking lot at Greyfriars Church.
As in the play, the depiction of Richard as a villain through and through is established early and maintained by the famous "now is the winter of our discontent" soliloquy. Olivier delivers this speech right to the camera--to the audience, who he makes his captive conspirators in his far-reaching plot to grab the throne with his crippled hand. He makes it clear and in no uncertain terms what his motives are. Richard is a thoroughbred liar, save during his asides to us; we are the only ones with whom he can be honest. Olivier makes us the confidants to this sociopath, putting us in the uncomfortable role of empathizing with Richard and his superiority complex. Although much of the dialogue between characters is delivered similar to a stage production, there are notable directorial flourishes which give subtext to the true character of Richard, a constant in Shakespearean adaptations. Take the moment when the younger heir of the late King Edward IV teases Richard about his hunched back in what had heretofore been a pleasant game between the Lord Protector and the boy. The tone shifts dramatically for a moment when Richard turns and delivers an icy glare which causes the boy to stumble back. It is a cinematic moment that would largely be lost on stage, but with the benefit of the camera angle, reinforces that which we might have hoped to forget, that Richard is an unmitigated monster, his mask forced to slip for a moment. Similarly, as Richard's schemes spread like a plague--largely thanks to his prime conspirator and skilled orator, the underhanded Duke of Buckingham (Ralph Richardson)--his supporters become recognizable by bearing the same style hat Richard wears, indicating they too have fallen sway under his banner of treachery. Even Richard's shadow is sometimes the focus in scenes, representing the dark specter of corruption within the last vestiges of this warlike period. Olivier does not, however, play up the physical deformities of Richard to a great extent, unless doing so is in the interests of Richard at that point in time, suggesting that Richard is overly self-conscious about his appearance and how others view him, underscoring his paranoia.
How could a man so warped and vile rise to the throne with apparent ease? Richard persists as a beguiling madman, an opportunist, and even a charmer, given his rapid seduction of the widowed Anne--who has full knowledge that Richard killed her husband and her father; in short, Richard is the template for the modern politician. This cynical edge is what Olivier exploits in his own adaptation, making Richard someone who often appears pious and gentle at times, but secretly guards a vindictive hatred within. Olivier's broad yet nuanced performance contains so many facets of a madman and quintessential political villain. He acts with disdain and spite, jealousy and envy, sneering at those whom he sees as a threat to his power--every vile emotion given license is nestled within Richard's enmity and scorn. This style of a megalomaniacal villain would be so popular, that it would form the template for some of film's finest villains to follow, such as Daniel Day-Lewis' portrayal of William "Bill" Cutting in Martin Scorsese's Gangs of New York or F. Murray Abraham's performance as Antonio Salieri in Milos Forman's Amadeus. Olivier delivers these complex elements with gestures, subtle and otherwise, his voice moving from a silky whisper to a bellowing cry and back again with the craft of a master thespian. It is no surprise then that Sir Lawrence Olivier's performance in Richard III is often regarded as his finest.
Recommended for: Fans of a cynical yet thrilling tale of a watershed moment in English history, so memorable and significant that William Shakespeare wrote one of his most enduring plays about it. Olivier's adaptation captures the tension and unease of the period, while also embodying the most terrible elements of leadership gone wrong in the eponymous Richard III.
As in the play, the depiction of Richard as a villain through and through is established early and maintained by the famous "now is the winter of our discontent" soliloquy. Olivier delivers this speech right to the camera--to the audience, who he makes his captive conspirators in his far-reaching plot to grab the throne with his crippled hand. He makes it clear and in no uncertain terms what his motives are. Richard is a thoroughbred liar, save during his asides to us; we are the only ones with whom he can be honest. Olivier makes us the confidants to this sociopath, putting us in the uncomfortable role of empathizing with Richard and his superiority complex. Although much of the dialogue between characters is delivered similar to a stage production, there are notable directorial flourishes which give subtext to the true character of Richard, a constant in Shakespearean adaptations. Take the moment when the younger heir of the late King Edward IV teases Richard about his hunched back in what had heretofore been a pleasant game between the Lord Protector and the boy. The tone shifts dramatically for a moment when Richard turns and delivers an icy glare which causes the boy to stumble back. It is a cinematic moment that would largely be lost on stage, but with the benefit of the camera angle, reinforces that which we might have hoped to forget, that Richard is an unmitigated monster, his mask forced to slip for a moment. Similarly, as Richard's schemes spread like a plague--largely thanks to his prime conspirator and skilled orator, the underhanded Duke of Buckingham (Ralph Richardson)--his supporters become recognizable by bearing the same style hat Richard wears, indicating they too have fallen sway under his banner of treachery. Even Richard's shadow is sometimes the focus in scenes, representing the dark specter of corruption within the last vestiges of this warlike period. Olivier does not, however, play up the physical deformities of Richard to a great extent, unless doing so is in the interests of Richard at that point in time, suggesting that Richard is overly self-conscious about his appearance and how others view him, underscoring his paranoia.
How could a man so warped and vile rise to the throne with apparent ease? Richard persists as a beguiling madman, an opportunist, and even a charmer, given his rapid seduction of the widowed Anne--who has full knowledge that Richard killed her husband and her father; in short, Richard is the template for the modern politician. This cynical edge is what Olivier exploits in his own adaptation, making Richard someone who often appears pious and gentle at times, but secretly guards a vindictive hatred within. Olivier's broad yet nuanced performance contains so many facets of a madman and quintessential political villain. He acts with disdain and spite, jealousy and envy, sneering at those whom he sees as a threat to his power--every vile emotion given license is nestled within Richard's enmity and scorn. This style of a megalomaniacal villain would be so popular, that it would form the template for some of film's finest villains to follow, such as Daniel Day-Lewis' portrayal of William "Bill" Cutting in Martin Scorsese's Gangs of New York or F. Murray Abraham's performance as Antonio Salieri in Milos Forman's Amadeus. Olivier delivers these complex elements with gestures, subtle and otherwise, his voice moving from a silky whisper to a bellowing cry and back again with the craft of a master thespian. It is no surprise then that Sir Lawrence Olivier's performance in Richard III is often regarded as his finest.
Recommended for: Fans of a cynical yet thrilling tale of a watershed moment in English history, so memorable and significant that William Shakespeare wrote one of his most enduring plays about it. Olivier's adaptation captures the tension and unease of the period, while also embodying the most terrible elements of leadership gone wrong in the eponymous Richard III.