Judi Dench’s Shakespeare Review: A Refreshingly Pragmatic Exploration of Our Greatest Plays

“This book was never intended to be a book” is an attractive and open opening sentence. The plan, as actor and co-writer Brendan O’Hea explains, was to record his friend Judi Dench talking about the many Shakespearean roles she played during her seven-decade career and the finished tapes that Shakespeare’s Globe archives offered to share . with others. But the project turned out to be so interesting that its scope was expanded, to the inevitable delight of booksellers who were eyeing a lucrative Christmas market.

I’ll be honest and admit that I was skeptical at first. I was afraid of this The man who pays the rent – the nickname that Dench and her late husband Michael Williams gave Shakespeare during their ten years with the Royal Shakespeare Company in the 1970s – would be nothing more than an elegant Culturati gift, a book that is pointedly lied about, such as Admire. “Look, Judy did all the line art herself!” – instead of reading. I readily admit that I was wrong in that assumption, as this is a sensitive but light-hearted book, filled with Dench’s signature sparkling humour.

The format is clear and simple: a chapter-by-chapter Q&A journey through Dench’s engagement with the Shakespearean canon in many of the country’s major theatres. O’Hea asks something, and Dench follows her ideas and memories, taking the work (mostly) seriously and not himself at all. Her lifelong love of these works, their humanity and universality is undeniable, but it is a strikingly honest and non-academic view.

“Phoebe is a role that paralyzes you,” she says cheerfully of the long wait to appear on stage in this small role. How do you like it. The enduring appeal of Macbeth is summed up in the last line of this chapter: “Briefly, without interruption, the pub (The Dirty Duck). [in Stratford upon Avon]): Heaven”.

Analyzing many works scene by scene, Dench is insightful and her memory for seemingly insignificant passages, be it lines or costumes, is lightning fast. Would anyone but the most dedicated drama student want to familiarize themselves with the details of lesser-known dramas such as: Coriolanus is subject to debate, but there is great general interest in considering it in detail. Hamlet AND Romeo and Juliet.

Ophelia at the Old Vic was her first professional role after training as an actor (her pain at losing the role while on tour in the US is clear on the pages), playing Gertrude, Daniel Day-Lewis’s distressed mother. . in the National Theater version by Richard Eyre. In Dench’s reading, Gertrude, or “Dirty Gertie” as she derisively calls her, has long had feelings for Claudius, the mischievous brother of her rather dull late husband.

Unobtrusively intertwined are countless memories of titans of British theater such as John Gielgud and Edith Evans. The rigor of the RSC’s early artistic directors Peter Hall, who used to stand at the lectern beating out the rhythm of iambic pentameter, and Trevor Nunn is warmly praised, although Dench’s endless penchant for collective behind-the-scenes mischief foreshadows her own forays into guide drives. were limited. “The actors confront you. They all go to the pub and don’t tell you where they are,” she says in what we can imagine is a mature tone of mock hurt.

There are cute stories about live snakes wearing wigs at curtain time (Antony and Cleopatra) and dye their hair a different color at night (Henry V), but such ease is only possible when it is supported by a clear admiration for Shakespeare and his work. “It will always be relevant because it reflects the times we live in,” she says simply. Her extensive list of accomplishments is proof of this.