Although at the beginning of Kenneth Branagh's film adaptation of Henry V Derek Jacobi implores us to try to "think" when the players talk about Agincourt to "see ” the commotion (Prologue. 27), we soon realize that pretending is not necessary. Surrounded on all sides by sleeping soldiers, a cloaked figure crouches near the warmth of a dying fire, while the moon's rays illuminate a half-covered but familiar face in the silent darkness. This figure is Henry V, and this moment in the film certainly does justice to its written counterpart: we hear the "creeping murmur fill the wide vessel of the universe" (4.1.2) through the haunting hum of the violins, and we hear "the deep darkness” (4.1.2) envelops us as the fire dies down on the eve of the Battle of Agincourt, indeed, what Shakespeare has written unfolds before us, perhaps more clearly and authentically than the playwright himself ever would have. could have imagined. The magic of the film lies in its ability to make Shakespeare's words real and fill them with a story of tears, breath and blood. The film exposes the private secrets of a story that at first glance seems to be what Stephen Greenblatt calls “the celebration of charismatic leadership and martial heroism” (223) Branagh's image captivates by effortlessly showing the power to transcend the obvious, examining delicate and intimate moments with the king and other monarchs, clarifying truths. hidden stories about Henry that casual readers might otherwise miss. There are, for attentive readers, powerful moments in the text that illuminate a realm of negative space, revealing a fundamental paradox in Henry's character and delineating the dichotomy of spirit inherent in kingship. Branagh's performance demonstrates his commitment to those moments as he seeks to unmask Henry, to grasp his innermost content and the essential landscape of his existence as both a man and a monarch. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on "Why Violent Video Games Shouldn't Be Banned"? Get an original essay In Act IV, Henry mingles with his troops on the eve of battle and, in a heated debate with one soldier in particular, discovers the near absurdity of his role as king of England. In Shakespeare's version, Michael Williams tells him that "if these men do not die well, it will be a black matter with the king who brought them to it" (IV.i.148-150). Henry responds by insisting that a king “is not bound to respond to the particular fate of his soldiers” (IV.i.159-60) with a haste and resentment that hint at frustration. The film, however, fosters in us an appreciation of the painful anxiety he feels in taking responsibility for its subject's life, as well as his painful acceptance that he is as powerful and influential as a god, but still only a man. On the king! Let our lives, our souls, our debts, our caring wives, our children and our sins fall upon the King! We have to endure everything. O harsh condition, twin of greatness, subject to the breath of every fool whose senses can no longer feel but their own torment. What infinite comforts of the heart must kings neglect that private individuals enjoy? …Oh be sick, great greatness. (IV. i. 238-245)Branagh brilliantly captures Henry's anxiety: tears shine in his eyes and we feel the irritation and unease with which he proclaims: "The soul of every subject is his own" (IV.i. 238-245) .183). Dressing in disguise, he is at once a king and a commoner, and with subjects sleeping on either side of him, he is both in company, but alone enough to speak as if no one could hear him. This scene is the first clear articulation of the irony intended byShakespeare, but which Branagh's film makes real. As Henry searches within himself to reconcile the dual nature of his being, we realize how much the work comments on the uncanny coalescence of mind and matter in humans in general, and the confrontation between surface and substratum that is intrinsic to kings. in particular. Although “in his nakedness he appears but a man,” (IV.i.107) the King learns that he is “twin”; he bears the obligations of a king, yet is “subject” to the same “breath” as those who enjoy his protection. Indeed, what a "difficult condition" to be both real and mortal at the same time. In the second scene of Act V, after England defeats France, the plot suddenly, if not arbitrarily, reveals that he is in love with Princess Catherine of France. Henry's romantic determinations are an even more complex example of this paradox. If the “witchcraft” lay in the kiss of Katherine's lips, then the same can be said of Henry's courtship techniques (V.ii.287), a fact made evident by the fact that he declares “in true English” that he loves her, calling his voice under the name of “music”. The tenacity with which he courts her reveals his intention to conquer her just as he did his country. Where in Act IV he strived to harmoniously lead both parts of himself (man and king), in Act V he strives to detach them, to know the boundaries of his duties as conqueror and lover: But in loving me, you should love the friend of France, because I love France so much that I will not part with a single village of it. I'll have everything mine. And, Kate, when France is mine and I am yours, then yours is France and you are mine. (V.ii.179-85, emphasis added) The irony is further revealed when he admits that he loves her “cruelly” (V.ii.211). His use of the word cruel (which evokes images of indifference, harshness, and lack of compassion), his inappropriately transactional language, and his claim that he loves her "truly-falsely" (Vi234) show that he is incapable of separating the feelings he has for the conquest of France different from those he feels for his princess. Even in circumstances of tender intimacy, Henry struggles with himself to give up his royal instincts. Katherine's facial expressions in the film show her displeasure with Henry's attitude. His voice lacks the smiles and lightness one might expect after a proposal. Even his kiss is that of one who is conquered, subordinated. He will have “everything”. Henry's romantic and erotic desires are not free from the persistent difficulty of belonging to a "twin" king. Furthermore, when Katherine tells Henry that their marriage will “please de roi,” her father, we begin to realize that she too must deal with contrasting existences. A woman and princess, she too must negotiate a space between personal needs and family expectations. When she and Henry finally raise their hands to celebrate a newly unified nation, we see the same death and dissatisfaction in her eyes that we saw earlier in the scene; part of her is much less enthusiastic about marrying the man responsible for the deaths of her countrymen, but the other part of her knows what she must do. This scene shows the tragedy of two figures lost in themselves; Katherine and Henry have two minds, but one body. The drama of Shakespeare's Henry V and Branagh's Henry V lies in their tendency to falter. Now simple, now invisible, at the same time manifest and elusive, they function like sculptures engraved in bas-relief; With three-dimensional, carefully sculpted descriptions of humanity, Henry V suggests looking to the shadow areas, beyond the action depicted on the raised stone, and to the often overlooked sunken regions for an authentic human narrative. the struggles with duality, 2005.