England needs an heir. Queen Catherine is as barren as a brick. Henry VIII falls for Anne Boleyn and needs to divorce his queen, but she is the aunt of the Holy Roman Emperor and the Pope cannot grant Henry's wish. Anne Boleyn falls pregnant, and Henry needs a divorce now. He rejects papal power in England and the Church of England is born. Henry and Anne are married in January 1533; Henry divorces Catherine the following May, insisting they were never married because she was once betrothed to his long dead brother, Arthur. In September, Elizabeth is born. So began the Anglican church, the Elizabethan era, the patronage of Shakespeare and the conflict between protestant England and Catholic Spain, culminating in the dispatch of their doomed Armada; for good measure, Elizabeth, the virgin queen, had two American states named after her. All because England needed an heir, or because Henry wanted Anne, or both.
Behind the scenes of this drama is the story of lawyer Thomas More, who rose to become Chancellor of England (the king's closest advisor) then fell from grace because his conscience would not allow him to oppose the Pope, who was, to More, the link with St Peter and therefore with Christ Himself. This film is an examination of More's belief in his god as represented by the Pope. What it is not about is divorce. Thomas More did not object to the divorce so much as to the rejection of papal authority and the establishment of a rival church - albeit catholic - with the monarch as the head of the church in England. Henry, it should be noted, regarded himself as a catholic until the day he died.
More's refusal to swear to an oath based upon the Act of Succession, and his eloquent legal and philosophical debates on and around the subject, form the basis of this staggering film. In the background, his family gradually lose their status and their wealth when More resigns the chancellorship and is imprisoned in the Tower (of London). It is when we hear of his reasons for refusing the oath, as explained to a King's Council, to his daughter and to the Duke of Norfolk, that we understand his absolute faith in his god and the depth of his love: "only God is love right through". We understand that although he is responsible for his family in this earthly realm, when it comes to their souls, they are on their own and must go where their own consciences take them: we know that he would not perjure himself even to save their lives.
This is an astonishing film. From the opening scenes, including Orson Welles's cameo, where the challenge to papal authority is explained, through More's confrontation with Robert Shaw's Henry VIII, to his imprisonment and trial, we are with the man for all seasons. We understand his predicament and we learn why he is regarded as a saint. Most of us know we are not made of such stuff as this, that we could not tolerate the imprisonment in the grimy, dank dungeon, then face execution for the want of the taking of an oath.
Scofield's portrayal of More is one of the best performances in cinematic history and he delivers Robert Bolt's literate dialogue with the gravitas appropriate to the role. Robert Shaw, in his one scene, plays Henry like a kid in a candy store who needs help reaching the jar on the top shelf, only to be disappointed when he takes off the lid. With actors like Wendy Hiller, John Hurt, Nigel Davenport, Susannah York, Leo McKern and Corin Redgrave in the other supporting roles we cannot claim any as standing out from the rest: these are, each and every one, the most outstanding actors and each part has been perfectly cast.
This amazing movie won half a dozen Oscars and deservedly so. It has withstood well the ravages of time and glows like a beacon in the wilderness as an example of how to write a spellbinding (screen)play, of how to direct a dialogue driven film and of how to bring to life the complexities and machinations of a middle ages court. It is a luxurious slice of cinema that will live for a long, long time. We are privileged to be able to watch films of such quality.
Behind the scenes of this drama is the story of lawyer Thomas More, who rose to become Chancellor of England (the king's closest advisor) then fell from grace because his conscience would not allow him to oppose the Pope, who was, to More, the link with St Peter and therefore with Christ Himself. This film is an examination of More's belief in his god as represented by the Pope. What it is not about is divorce. Thomas More did not object to the divorce so much as to the rejection of papal authority and the establishment of a rival church - albeit catholic - with the monarch as the head of the church in England. Henry, it should be noted, regarded himself as a catholic until the day he died.
More's refusal to swear to an oath based upon the Act of Succession, and his eloquent legal and philosophical debates on and around the subject, form the basis of this staggering film. In the background, his family gradually lose their status and their wealth when More resigns the chancellorship and is imprisoned in the Tower (of London). It is when we hear of his reasons for refusing the oath, as explained to a King's Council, to his daughter and to the Duke of Norfolk, that we understand his absolute faith in his god and the depth of his love: "only God is love right through". We understand that although he is responsible for his family in this earthly realm, when it comes to their souls, they are on their own and must go where their own consciences take them: we know that he would not perjure himself even to save their lives.
This is an astonishing film. From the opening scenes, including Orson Welles's cameo, where the challenge to papal authority is explained, through More's confrontation with Robert Shaw's Henry VIII, to his imprisonment and trial, we are with the man for all seasons. We understand his predicament and we learn why he is regarded as a saint. Most of us know we are not made of such stuff as this, that we could not tolerate the imprisonment in the grimy, dank dungeon, then face execution for the want of the taking of an oath.
Scofield's portrayal of More is one of the best performances in cinematic history and he delivers Robert Bolt's literate dialogue with the gravitas appropriate to the role. Robert Shaw, in his one scene, plays Henry like a kid in a candy store who needs help reaching the jar on the top shelf, only to be disappointed when he takes off the lid. With actors like Wendy Hiller, John Hurt, Nigel Davenport, Susannah York, Leo McKern and Corin Redgrave in the other supporting roles we cannot claim any as standing out from the rest: these are, each and every one, the most outstanding actors and each part has been perfectly cast.
This amazing movie won half a dozen Oscars and deservedly so. It has withstood well the ravages of time and glows like a beacon in the wilderness as an example of how to write a spellbinding (screen)play, of how to direct a dialogue driven film and of how to bring to life the complexities and machinations of a middle ages court. It is a luxurious slice of cinema that will live for a long, long time. We are privileged to be able to watch films of such quality.