British stage and screen actor Paul Scofield passed away yesterday from leukemia at age 86. I have been awed by his film appearances (too few, to my way of thinking) in Henry V, Hamlet (with Mel Gibson), The Crucible, and, in a role especially close to my heart, Columbia University professor-poet Mark Van Doren in Quiz Show. But I honor him especially for his memorable Oscar-winning turn as Sir Thomas More in possibly my favorite (that, or On the Waterfront) film, A Man for All Seasons.
From the obituaries, it seems that Scofield didn’t appear more on celluloid because it meant being away from his home and his wife of 65 years, the actress Joy Parker. Actors and directors have been unanimous in praising not just his onstage skill but also his offstage unassuming nature—which stood him in good stead in the roles that made his reputation.
Scofield died during Holy Week—appropriately enough for an actor whose greatest roles, many theatergoers agreed, were as More in A Man for All Seasons and as the “whiskey priest” in the stage adaptation of Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory.
After reading excerpts from Richard Burton’s diaries, I’ve always felt that the Welsh actor, with his fierce intelligence, self-loathing, and addictions to alcohol and women, would have been the ideal choice to play Greene’s God-haunted cleric. But Burton, with an almost unactorly abasement of ego before the man who beat him out of an Academy Award in 1966, insisted, "Of the 10 greatest moments in the theater, eight are Scofield's."
From the obituaries, it seems that Scofield didn’t appear more on celluloid because it meant being away from his home and his wife of 65 years, the actress Joy Parker. Actors and directors have been unanimous in praising not just his onstage skill but also his offstage unassuming nature—which stood him in good stead in the roles that made his reputation.
Scofield died during Holy Week—appropriately enough for an actor whose greatest roles, many theatergoers agreed, were as More in A Man for All Seasons and as the “whiskey priest” in the stage adaptation of Graham Greene’s The Power and the Glory.
After reading excerpts from Richard Burton’s diaries, I’ve always felt that the Welsh actor, with his fierce intelligence, self-loathing, and addictions to alcohol and women, would have been the ideal choice to play Greene’s God-haunted cleric. But Burton, with an almost unactorly abasement of ego before the man who beat him out of an Academy Award in 1966, insisted, "Of the 10 greatest moments in the theater, eight are Scofield's."
My favorite Scofield moment on film occurs toward the end of A Man for All Seasons. After being convicted of treason based on false testimony, More begs leave to speak to the court.
Watch the skillful interplay between Scofield’s body and voice as he gradually but unmistakably moves toward one of the greatest courtroom perorations in cinema history.
Playfully ironic wit, sophistication and grace have been More’s hallmarks throughout the film to this point—necessities, really, for anyone who hopes to sway a jury or win over a ruler in council. All that’s over—with the verdict given, Scofield’s wide, pensive eyes and sagging shoulders tell you all you need to know about More’s exhaustion from imprisonment and the lengthy struggle to keep his wits about him.
Paradoxically, however, the absolute certainty of doom frees More—something you can see in the way Scofield pulls himself up to his full 6-ft.-2-inch height--as the prisoner serenely but unmistakably points out that his conscience and his rights as an Englishman have been abused by the king he loyally served.
His voice steadies now, settling into the groove carved by logic and faith that served him well all his life: “I am the king's true subject, and I pray for him and all the realm. I do none harm. I say none harm. I think none harm. And if this be not enough to keep a man alive, then in good faith I long not to live.”
Now Scofield plants his feet, his back straightening, all the steel entering it, as a saint might need to leave behind the friends, family and life he loves. You sense that, at long last, the long-anticipated explosion is about to come.
And here, for virtually the first time in this long scene of close-ups and medium shots, Fred Zinnemann pulls the camera back, allowing the actor’s magnificent voice—one that the director likened to “a Rolls Royce being started” —to fill the courtroom as More, the longtime loyal counselor, shocks the audience by flinging down his defiance against all the forces that have sought unsuccessfully to traduce his conscience: “Nevertheless, it is not for the Supremacy that you have sought my blood, but because I would not bend to the marriage!”
Robert Bolt’s play contains some of the meatiest lines in the last half-century of drama, but so indelible was Scofield’s impact in this role that I can’t recall another actor—besides Charlton Heston, in a TNT performance that only suffered by comparison with his famous predecessor’s—daring to tackle this part.
We have seen many a rake’s progress on screen over the years. In thrilling fashion, Scofield depicted a saint’s.
Blogger “Steve on Broadway” offers an excellent tribute to Scofield.
No comments:
Post a Comment