"The Tudors": Chiseled, not grizzled
jaimej78
TELEVISION
Chiseled, not grizzled
Jonathan Rhys Meyers creates a young HenryVIII with brawn enough to
lure 12 wives in 'The Tudors.'
By Kristin Hohenadel, Special to The Times
April 1, 2007
Bray, County Wicklow, Ireland - FORGET the red wig and the fat suit.
For his starring role as King Henry VIII in the new Showtime series
"The Tudors," Jonathan Rhys Meyers makes do with his own cropped brown
hair, sculpted silhouette and Hollywood teeth.
"Listen," said the pillow-lipped 29-year-old Irish actor on a chilly
summer afternoon on set at Ardmore Studios outside of Dublin. He wore
loud green sweats and a pale gray sleeveless shirt, smoked, drank tea
with milk, an-nun-ci-a-ted like a thespian and bounced his leg up and
down so hard that his trailer was shaking. "You're trying to sell a
historical period drama to a country like the United States of
America, you do not want a big, fat, 250-pound red-haired guy with a
beard. It doesn't let people embrace the fantastic monarch that he
was, because they're not attracted to the package. Heroes do not look
like Henry VIII. And that is just the world we live in."
The king's image has been immortalized by the surviving portraits of a
bloated, middle-aged tyrant known for his half-dozen wives and
predilection for chopping off heads. But changing standards of beauty
aside, the makers of "The Tudors," which debuts tonight at 10 p.m.,
insist that Rhys Meyers is a fitting choice to play the young and
apparently once-sexy king of 16th century Tudor England. "A number of
sources testify that as a young man, Henry was the handsomest prince
in Christendom," said Brian Kirk, an Irish director who was shooting
episodes five and six. Henry was also an excellent hunter and jouster
who often spent whole days out riding. "Jonny's very handsome, very
athletic," Kirk said. "He kind of utterly epitomizes the chivalric
ideal."
Written by English screenwriter Michael Hirst ("Elizabeth"), the first
10 episodes are co-directed by Kirk, Charles McDougall, Steve Shill,
Alison Maclean and Ciaran Donnelly. The producers urged Hirst, who had
never written for television, to study "West Wing" episodes and to
think of "The Tudors" as a kind of 16th century "Sopranos," with Henry
as the kingpin.
Robert Greenblatt, president of entertainment at Showtime, cast Rhys
Meyers after working with him as an executive producer on the 2005 CBS
miniseries "Elvis." His Golden Globe-winning performance as one iconic
King convinced Greenblatt that he was capable of playing another. "We
wanted somebody really visceral on screen who has a touch of madness
about him," Greenblatt said. "Jonny's very intense."
"The Tudors" is the most expensive dramatic series Showtime has
produced, with help from financial partner Peace Arch. The network is
making a big bet on the historical series - spending a reported $3.5
million per episode and sharing Sunday cable prime time with an
arguably bigger character than Henry: Tony Soprano.
Too much on his plate
THIS Henry VIII is not merely a tyrant and a ladies' man, but a
cultured, multilingual, artistically minded and literary young man who
liked to hang out with the guys and design and landscape palaces in
his spare time (he went through 60 by the end of his nearly 40-year
reign). Henry's father had left him an enormous inheritance, but
little guidance on how to rule the nation. So he relied on a political
inner circle that included the humanist philosopher Sir Thomas More
(played by Jeremy Northam) and the avaricious Cardinal Wolsey (Sam
Neill) as he struggled to be a just ruler and to ensure his own
glorious legacy. "The position of being a king warps Henry as a man,"
Kirk said. "It's hard to grow up when no one ever says no to you.
Without acquiring wisdom and maturity, it's hard to rule in a just
manner. He's quite a heroic figure, but on the other hand he's quite a
dysfunctional figure. There's a central tension in his character that
ripples throughout the whole universe of the court."
During Henry's age, a king was not only an omnipotent ruler, but a
divine figurehead anointed by the church. Henry believed that God had
appointed him to the job, and Kirk said that Rhys Meyers brought to
his performance "a wonderful mixture of youthful naiveté and a sense
of entitlement and regal arrogance that comes with having been born to
be a king."
"The Tudors" spans an early decade in the reign of Henry VIII, who, at
17, unexpectedly inherited both the throne and his older brother's
wife, Katherine of Aragon (Maria Doyle Kennedy). Much of Season 1
focuses on the love triangle that changed world history as Henry seeks
to divorce his wife for failing to give him a surviving male heir and
falls hard for Anne Boleyn (Natalie Dormer), eventually leading to the
break with the Roman Catholic Church over his divorce.
Hirst said he remembered a conference call with the network after
having turned in the first several episodes, in which Greenblatt said:
"We really only have one question. Is any of this true?"
About 85%, it turns out, apart from a few name changes and a bit of
chronological fudging and filling in of dramatic blanks in the name of
artistic license.
"When people ask, 'Is it historically accurate?' Well, it's not like
any of the historians were actually there," Hirst said. "So what you
read in history books, is that historically accurate? Not necessarily.
I'm not writing a documentary."
Hirst wasn't the only member of the cast and crew who seemed eager to
stress that this wasn't a history lesson, but entertainment based on a
true story so juicy and surprising that you couldn't have made it up.
"It's part history, part soap, part romance," said the tall, shy, slow-
talking Neill in his trailer, having slipped out of Wolsey's gleaming
red cardinal's robes and into a black-wool sweater and cream-colored
cords. "Above all, it's about sex, I think. Sex drives everything,
including Wolsey, who had a mistress. The vow of celibacy didn't mean
a lot to the good cardinal." He chuckled softly. "Yes, sex drives
everything. That's what makes it such fun."
The Tudors were no prudes, and Irish costume designer Joan Bergin said
this inspired her to go for "a sexy, modern Tudor look" with faithful
silhouettes and slightly lowered necklines. "We're all conditioned to
think of Victorian morality, where women couldn't show their ankles,"
Bergin said. "But in Tudor times, it was a lot more open. Ladies went
to court to find a husband and you tried out quite a few before you
decided."
"The Tudors" begins in 1520, a little over a decade into Henry's rule,
with the legendary Field of the Cloth of Gold meeting between the
English king and King Francis I of France. It was shot on an estate in
a steep valley in the beginning-of-time countryside in Luggala, with
its fern-covered, boulder-scattered rolling hills. Episode 10 ends
with the death of Wolsey in 1530 - which leaves plenty of history to
mine in future seasons if the series gets picked up. "I hope this will
go on for years," Greenblatt said.
Tax incentives had lured the American makers of this very English
story to Ireland, and Irish production designer Tom Conroy said they
had worked around the lack of native Tudor architecture by building
sets and choosing "period neutral" locations and turning the 12th
century Christ Church Cathedral, a busy Dublin tourist site and
working house of worship, into a "mini-studio" that had been set-
dressed as royal and country chapels and whose crypt had been
reincarnated into a French court dormitory, among other things.
At Ardmore Studios, royal chambers had been built, lined with plaster,
painted and stained to look like ornate wood; period beds had been
carved; working fireplaces glowed; and thousands of euros had been
devoted to commissioning handmade, double-wicked beeswax candles to
provide authentic lighting for the interior spaces. Conroy said he
tried to make the production as Tudor-looking as possible. But the
straw that would have covered interior floors tripped the steady cam
and looked so odd it was deemed too distracting and, for the most
part, it was removed. The rooms were less bare than they would
technically have been in Tudor times - with more furniture and
character-revealing objects such as Henry's spheres and maps scattered
around his chambers and not locked away in cupboards as they would
have been. "We're editing history, in a sense," Conroy said, "creating
a parallel universe."
Conroy's office was stacked with reference books and much of the cast
and crew had been reading works by popular historians such as Antonia
Fraser and Alison Weir to get themselves in the period mood.
But the self-taught Rhys Meyers, who recently finished shooting "The
Children of Huang Shi" set in China during the 1937 Japanese invasion,
claimed he didn't believe in homework. "I can only work with the
material I have in the script," he said. "Anything else is just
clouding my mind. I think about myself as Henry. How would I react if
I was a young king, if I needed an heir, if I wanted to divorce my
wife - not because I didn't love her anymore, but because she was old
and I was no longer attracted to her. When I agree to take on a role,
then I pretty much become what that role is for a period of time. So
this isn't the Jonny you'll meet in six months' time."
Celebrity then, celebrity now
KIRK, 38, who directed an episode of "Brotherhood" for Showtime and
whose first feature, "Middletown," was shown at this year's Tribeca
Film Festival, said working in Hollywood was the best crash course in
Tudor court dynamics. "Henry was the ultimate star and everyone was
flocking to get a piece of him and to try and climb the ladder
themselves," the director said. "Jonny has done the Hollywood thing. I
think that's the closest we're gonna get in terms of an experience.
And I think he's really able to bring his knowledge of, you know, the
star system in America to bear on the court and how that impacts upon
people's perceptions of you - the danger of that and also the power of
it. He's very aware of the problems that Henry has as a youth trying
to be a man trying to be a king. He has a parallel experience to draw
on."
"From a very young age, Henry is pushed into situations," Rhys Meyers
said, and narrowed his wild, watercolor-blue eyes. "And so you're not
allowed to be a youth. You have been taken out of your childlike
environment and been pushed into an adult world that you really aren't
ready for. And for me it's like I was pushed into - well, I wanted to
be - but I found myself on film sets from the time I'm 17 until you
see me today. And it took me an awful lot of time to learn how to
handle that."
He drained his tea. "But the main reason I kind of wanted to play
Henry is that, you know, Elvis you can kind of see," he said, "Henry,
you can't. And the joy of getting a role like that is that nobody ever
thought you would play Henry VIII. And then suddenly you are."
Jaime
jaimej78
Henry VIII: portrait of a serial schemer
By Tim Goodman
Friday, March 30, 2007
The Tudors: Drama. 10 p.m. Sundays, Showtime.
One historical drama, "Rome," is off the air for good just as another,
"The Tudors," rises on a rival network. Is this a good time to be
watching TV, or what?
If viewers learned anything from "Rome" (well, other than historical
dramas are often a slow build), it's that taking a few liberties with
history might annoy historians, but as long as the result is
compelling drama, who really suffers?
In that vein, "The Tudors" is a wonderful romp. Not only is the pilot,
which airs Sunday -- the first of 10 episodes -- glossier, sexier and
more triumphantly colorful than anything, say, "Masterpiece Theatre"
could deliver, it's also hugely entertaining, thanks in large part to
Jonathan Rhys Meyers, who just flat-out exudes sexiness and virility
as the young King Henry VIII.
By documenting the early years of his reign, "The Tudors" is able to
catch Henry -- given the throne at 18 -- at his most compellingly
modern. Everyone knows about the fat, bearded, dangerously
misogynistic Henry, but in his youthful years he was not only more
physically agile and sexually adventurous (or so say the producers)
but also a tad more forward thinking. Of course, a lot of events
didn't go his way, and his petulance and anger would soon rise (as
would his voracious appetite, one would assume) to cause woe. But woe
is interesting.
Michael Hirst, the creator, executive producer and writer of "The
Tudors," gained a lot of notoriety for writing the feature film
"Elizabeth," starring Cate Blanchett as the young Elizabeth I. He's
mining early territory here as well, and just when you think there's
more style than substance, he slams back with subsequent episodes that
firmly establish the heady costume-drama conceits the audience
demands.
"The Tudors" doesn't shrink from telling the essential story. Henry
Tudor, Earl of Richmond, became King Henry VII at age 28 after
defeating Richard III and later marrying Elizabeth of York. His rise
was complicated and bloody, but his reign led to peace, and he
eventually started the transition to his oldest son, Prince Arthur.
But Arthur was ill. He was engaged to Catherine of Aragon, who was the
powerful daughter of Spanish rulers Ferdinand and Isabel. Arthur died
about a year after they were married, and Catherine swore that the
marriage was never consummated.
That opened the door for the king to allow his youngest son, Henry, to
become engaged to Catherine. When his father dies, Henry becomes King
Henry VIII and marries Catherine, but they don't produce a son.
Henry's philandering and desire for a divorce are crucial to the
history of England. Hirst is able, in "The Tudors," to use this royal
drama as grist for his story.
Hirst seizes on the young-Henry angle, and Showtime certainly glories
in the passionate (desire, anger, testosterone, etc.) tendencies of
virile, not-fat Henry. With glorious, form-fitting costumes -- and the
Emmy goes to designer Joan Bergin, no doubt -- the show delivers a
fresh retelling of the stale Henry VIII saga, and the result is
something tremendously entertaining, smart and richly detailed. Hirst
lines up the major historical figures and lets them loose, much as
"Rome" did.
If anything, "The Tudors" might be a quicker entry for viewers because
Rhys Meyers is riveting from the moment he walks into the frame. All
youthful aggression and ill-advised delegating (to Cardinal Wolsey,
played by Sam Neill), he's got an eye for the ladies -- many ladies --
while shrinking from his marriage to Queen Catherine (Maria Doyle
Kennedy), who was previously married to his older brother. With all
the intrigue of a Shakespearean drama and all the coiled intensity of
youthful power-brokering and rampant sexuality, it's hard to not like
this version of Henry VIII.
Also, you'd be hard-pressed to find a TV drama anywhere in the past
five years where the costumes stand out as characters in themselves.
In the press material for "The Tudors," Bergin says, "Henry was the
rock star of his time ... with garments cut close to the body to
accentuate his physique. He was the Mick Jagger of his day." She's
crafted an eye-catching array of clothes, and Rhys Meyers wears the
hell out of pretty much anything he's given, as do many of the
sumptuous ladies he meets.
Though Rhys Meyers dominates "The Tudors," the surrounding cast is
able to make good use of Hirst's focus on a youthful court. Natalie
Dormer as Anne Boleyn has a mesmerizing, temptress smile; Jeremy
Northam as pious Sir Thomas More lends some gravitas, as does Neill.
Henry Cavill and Callum Blue play Henry's almost-loyal friends. Nick
Dunning plays Sir Thomas Boleyn, who pimps out his daughters for
power. And Henry Czerny is the Duke of Norfolk, another actor who
lends ballast to Rhys Meyers and Co.'s shirtless antics.
What makes "The Tudors" so engaging and thrilling is this sense that,
in those early days, Henry was a young man with only a partial lock on
the importance of being king. He wants to play -- with his friends and
with the many women he eyed in his court. But just when you think this
series is one fun romp, Hirsh cleverly steers it back to history and
lends it enough import to keep you from thinking it's all too light,
letting Rhys Meyers run with the conceit, in the process destroying
the cliched depiction of fat and angry VIII making everybody
miserable.
"The Tudors" seems intent on checking itself periodically, so as not
to have too much froth, even though the froth evaporates the hours in
no time. It's as if Hirst is worried that viewers will gorge on the
costumes and the Showtime-sanctioned nudity, so he interrupts
periodically to make the viewers eat their vegetables.
Well, the same thing went on in HBO's "Rome," and that ended up
leaving quite an impression. And though comparisons don't do justice
to either offering, there's nothing wrong in rejoicing over the fact
that exactly seven days after an enormous costume drama shuts its
history books, another opens. It certainly beats another crime-scene
procedural.
Jaime
jaimej78
Lovable king in steamy 'Tudors'
By Kelly Jane Torrance
'The Tudors," Showtime's new miniseries, is insouciant about history,
sometimes anachronistic and seems to have been created simply to give
HBO a run for its money.
It's also completely addictive.
The 10-part series, which cost $42 million to make, premieres on the
cable channel Sunday night at 10. It aims at nothing less than making
us rethink an icon.
We're all familiar with the fat, pompous Henry VIII from Hans
Holbein's famous portrait. "The Tudors" offers us something rather
different: The attractive, magnetic young king he was before that.
Producers have found just the man for the part in Irish actor Jonathan
Rhys Meyers (Woody Allen's "Match Point," CBS' miniseries "Elvis"):
He's intelligent, sexy, decisive, headstrong but not out of control.
What more could you want in a king?
The very first scenes establish the tone of "The Tudors." "We meet to
consider questions of great moment," Henry tells his gathered
advisers. It's around 1520, and Henry, not yet 30, has been on the
throne for a decade.
The French have murdered England's ambassador in Urbino -- Henry's own
uncle. With his advisers' agreement, he decides to declare war. But
Henry can't be bothered with the details. He tells Cardinal Thomas
Wolsey (Sam Neill, "Jurassic Park") to arrange matters. "Now," the
king says, "I can go play."
This recreation involves some very strenuous exercise with a comely
blonde. His first words to her after they've finished: "How is your
husband?"
"The Tudors" has a steamy mix of sex and politics. Comparisons to such
HBO series as "The Sopranos" and "Rome" are inevitable. "Tudors" has
the same generous helpings of sex and violence -- although it's never
off-the-charts graphic -- combined with slightly highbrow thematic
elements that make viewers feel less guilty about enjoying themselves
so much.
Creator, writer and producer Michael Hirst, who wrote the script for
"Elizabeth," the feature film that starred Cate Blanchett as Henry's
daughter, says in the press notes that Showtime asked him how accurate
"The Tudors" was and that he guessed, off the top of his head, 85
percent.
It might be lower because "Tudors" is riddled with historical
inaccuracies.
For starters, Henry's first wife, Catherine of Aragon, was only five
years older than the king, but she's played by an actress (Maria Doyle
Kennedy of "The Commitments") 13 years older than Mr. Meyers.
And while Joan Bergin's costumes are quite stunning -- Henry is
dressed ostentatiously, with fabrics as elaborate as those of the
women -- they're not exactly the sort of thing worn in the Tudor
period.
Finally, many historians argue that Henry wasn't even particularly
promiscuous.
But never mind the historical license, the source material is
inherently rich in dramatic conflicts. The first is that within Henry
himself. He's an intelligent man, a humanist who struggles to
reconcile his ideas with his hope for immortality. He insists, "I
intend to be a just ruler. But tell me this: Why is Henry V
remembered?" Hint: It was a battle, not a tax break.
Another interesting intellectual battle is waged between Wolsey and
Thomas More (Jeremy Northam, "Gosford Park"). The former -- the
putative man of God -- chooses king over God, while the man of the
world chooses God over king. Mr. Northam, one of the show's standouts,
imbues his principled character with humanity and a deep sense of
unease.
Mr. Hirst is already at work writing season two of "The Tudors."
There's plenty of material -- Henry won't even have married his second
wife by the end of this series, of which critics were sent the first
half.
In this sympathetic portrayal of Henry VIII, even the decision to
consider annulling his first marriage seems almost defensible. His
father, Henry VII, took the throne in battle. The Tudors are a new
dynasty, and one that might not last if Henry doesn't have a male
heir. "All my father's work, finished," he despairs after a close call
with death. "And it's all my fault."
Henry VIII, the man who beheaded two wives, a sympathetic figure?
Forget about Tony Soprano, the lovable mobster. With "The Tudors,"
Showtime has out-HBOed HBO.
Jaime