Peter O'Toole played king Henry II in both Peter Glenville's "Becket" and Anthony Harvey's "Lion in Winter" and while he was marvelous in both, getting Oscar nominations for each role, I guess there's a reason why the latter's performance is more celebrated than the former. Be patient, I'll get to it.
To begin, it has nothing to do with the film's looks, I won't insist too long on the costumes, the ominous ambiance of cathedrals enhanced by the Gregorian composition of Laurence Rosenthal and the realistic though variously accurate historical set-designs, they all contribute to great rendition of the medieval age in such an early time that Normans saw Saxons as minority groups.
And if the mid-60s look elevates the material above the colorful artifices of swashbucklers, it's still undermined by a little something that is too staged. Indeed, you get the feeling that each scene is an excuse for a great soliloquy from King Henry, an occasion for O'Toole to demonstrate his turbulent side after his so laconic Lawrence of Arabia. As Henry, O'Toole is larger than life, chewing the scenery with great tantrums and a psychological predisposition from swinging back and forth between anger and tenderness like a tennis ball. The film has the look of the century but the theatrical directing of its decade.
As Thomas Becket, the Saxon lackey for which Henry devotes the lion share of his admiration, Burton plays him as the counterpart to Henry's exuberance. He is a man who thinks a lot, who always has a parable under his sleeve, a contemplative pragmatic resigned to his fate as a traitor. When he's attacked by one of his brothers, he simply lets him go. He's not romantic enough to embrace death when it comes. He loves Henry, I guess, and when asked why he traded his Saxon honor for his position as a court facilitator, he dryly replied that honor only matters to the death, and his dishonor allowed him to live. Henry admires his sincerity and names him councelor much to the Church's reluctance. His idea is to force them to finance their campaigns agains the King of France Charles IX (John Gielgud) and Becket has now a foot in two worlds. The question is where is he going to stand?
The most dramatic episode in Becket's evolution is the death of a woman, whom Henry took after a sordid bargain involving a female peasant found in an abandoned hut. Becket realizes the price of his frivolity. The irony is that the very soiler of his soul will offer him his last chance for redemption. Out of pure political calculation, Henry names Becket Archbishop of Canterbury. He thinks he's got his good friend in his pocket but that time, Becket will find his true calling, pulling before Sir Thomas More, the faith in God before the King. The film opens with Henry II visiting Thomas' casket so we're aware of the friendship's doom. And it's on that edifice that depended the whole film. The problem is that there's so much build-up that the collapse feels rather anticlimactic, apart from a magnificent reunion to the beach, and a visit to the king of France that promises a lot without really paying-off.
As Henry, O'Toole seems like a man so obsessed with Becket that there's no ambiguity anymore, there must be something more than friendship. We're probably reading too much but O'Toole seems to play his Henry as if he was in love with Becket and having him as a friend, an advisor and a political ally was the closest to intimacy he could get him. "Becket" ironically turns into a spectacle with more psychoanalytical undertones, and Henry an infantile character who can't grew up, because he can't handle rejection. Meanwhile Becket is the man who grew up and found his destiny, his eagerness to die for his cause can only prove how indirectly miserable he is, and by mirror effect, how Henry was. The result of that is that Henry strikes as a villain and Becket as a noble martyr and while it looks good on the paper and each actor does play the role perfectly, it gives the edge to O'Toole who's obviously got the more entertaining role.
Once the two break their seal, something is lost in the film, not because they should have stayed together but because the film hasn't much to offer. It was adapted from Jean Anouilh's play and there's a line about dishonor that might have been inspired by memories of the French occupation. But the film tries to cover so many grounds that we never know on what basis to judge it, the anglo-saxon wars, the church vs the throne or the broken friendship. I chose to regard it as a great product of its time with two solid actors and a hysterical performance of O'Toole as a hurt child who accepts being whipped as a punishment like a kid lets himself getting spanked because he did something naughty. The catch of that is that O'Toole was way too good, it made Burton's scenes less interesting retrospectively and when he was alone, even his 'intensity' couldn't hook us to a plot that was less interesting to his driver.
How ironic that the character you despise the most is still the most fun to watch. But ultimately, that's why "Lion in Winter" is better known (and received) than Becket, O'Toole had Katharine Hepburn and his Eleanor of Aquitain wouldn't be treated the way Pamela Brown was, Henry II had found his match. Becket was good but his arc, while noble and inspiring, was so obvious it became transparent. Both actors would be nominated for the Oscar, Burton got the title role but still, Henry II was too present in the film that there wasn't room for another lead.
To begin, it has nothing to do with the film's looks, I won't insist too long on the costumes, the ominous ambiance of cathedrals enhanced by the Gregorian composition of Laurence Rosenthal and the realistic though variously accurate historical set-designs, they all contribute to great rendition of the medieval age in such an early time that Normans saw Saxons as minority groups.
And if the mid-60s look elevates the material above the colorful artifices of swashbucklers, it's still undermined by a little something that is too staged. Indeed, you get the feeling that each scene is an excuse for a great soliloquy from King Henry, an occasion for O'Toole to demonstrate his turbulent side after his so laconic Lawrence of Arabia. As Henry, O'Toole is larger than life, chewing the scenery with great tantrums and a psychological predisposition from swinging back and forth between anger and tenderness like a tennis ball. The film has the look of the century but the theatrical directing of its decade.
As Thomas Becket, the Saxon lackey for which Henry devotes the lion share of his admiration, Burton plays him as the counterpart to Henry's exuberance. He is a man who thinks a lot, who always has a parable under his sleeve, a contemplative pragmatic resigned to his fate as a traitor. When he's attacked by one of his brothers, he simply lets him go. He's not romantic enough to embrace death when it comes. He loves Henry, I guess, and when asked why he traded his Saxon honor for his position as a court facilitator, he dryly replied that honor only matters to the death, and his dishonor allowed him to live. Henry admires his sincerity and names him councelor much to the Church's reluctance. His idea is to force them to finance their campaigns agains the King of France Charles IX (John Gielgud) and Becket has now a foot in two worlds. The question is where is he going to stand?
The most dramatic episode in Becket's evolution is the death of a woman, whom Henry took after a sordid bargain involving a female peasant found in an abandoned hut. Becket realizes the price of his frivolity. The irony is that the very soiler of his soul will offer him his last chance for redemption. Out of pure political calculation, Henry names Becket Archbishop of Canterbury. He thinks he's got his good friend in his pocket but that time, Becket will find his true calling, pulling before Sir Thomas More, the faith in God before the King. The film opens with Henry II visiting Thomas' casket so we're aware of the friendship's doom. And it's on that edifice that depended the whole film. The problem is that there's so much build-up that the collapse feels rather anticlimactic, apart from a magnificent reunion to the beach, and a visit to the king of France that promises a lot without really paying-off.
As Henry, O'Toole seems like a man so obsessed with Becket that there's no ambiguity anymore, there must be something more than friendship. We're probably reading too much but O'Toole seems to play his Henry as if he was in love with Becket and having him as a friend, an advisor and a political ally was the closest to intimacy he could get him. "Becket" ironically turns into a spectacle with more psychoanalytical undertones, and Henry an infantile character who can't grew up, because he can't handle rejection. Meanwhile Becket is the man who grew up and found his destiny, his eagerness to die for his cause can only prove how indirectly miserable he is, and by mirror effect, how Henry was. The result of that is that Henry strikes as a villain and Becket as a noble martyr and while it looks good on the paper and each actor does play the role perfectly, it gives the edge to O'Toole who's obviously got the more entertaining role.
Once the two break their seal, something is lost in the film, not because they should have stayed together but because the film hasn't much to offer. It was adapted from Jean Anouilh's play and there's a line about dishonor that might have been inspired by memories of the French occupation. But the film tries to cover so many grounds that we never know on what basis to judge it, the anglo-saxon wars, the church vs the throne or the broken friendship. I chose to regard it as a great product of its time with two solid actors and a hysterical performance of O'Toole as a hurt child who accepts being whipped as a punishment like a kid lets himself getting spanked because he did something naughty. The catch of that is that O'Toole was way too good, it made Burton's scenes less interesting retrospectively and when he was alone, even his 'intensity' couldn't hook us to a plot that was less interesting to his driver.
How ironic that the character you despise the most is still the most fun to watch. But ultimately, that's why "Lion in Winter" is better known (and received) than Becket, O'Toole had Katharine Hepburn and his Eleanor of Aquitain wouldn't be treated the way Pamela Brown was, Henry II had found his match. Becket was good but his arc, while noble and inspiring, was so obvious it became transparent. Both actors would be nominated for the Oscar, Burton got the title role but still, Henry II was too present in the film that there wasn't room for another lead.