The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933)
I can't say with certainty that this film had the highest roast chicken budget ever, but it's gotta be up there
Who knows what life may bring? The crown, perhaps.
The Private Life of Henry VIII (1933) - watched 10/8/24
Director: Alexander Korda
Writers: Lajos Bíró, Arthur Wimperis
Starring: Charles Laughton, Merle Oberon, Wendy Barrie, Elsa Lanchester, Binnie Barnes, Everley Gregg, Robert Donat
Available to watch on Tubi, Amazon Prime, Criterion Channel, Pluto TV, The Roku Channel, MGM+
First Time Watch? Yes
By pure coincidence, I watched the next film in my Best Picture series, The Private Life of Henry VIII, right around the same time that I watched The Night of the Hunter, the only film1 directed by Henry VIII star Charles Laughton. Considering Laughton had never been on my radar otherwise—I’d never seen any of his other films, probably would not have been able to name any films he had been in, and most definitely could not have picked him out of a line-up, I’m sorry to say—I found this to be a pleasant coincidence. Now that I’ve seen at least one very memorable performance and an impeccably directed film from him, I can safely say that I’m all-in on Charles Laughton. I’m a stan. A bonafide Laughton-head.
Laughton started his career as a stage actor in the 1920s, but quickly made the transition to film with a few shorts in 1928. He was a certified wife guy, having co-starred with his wife, Elsa Lanchester, in 11 films until his death in 1962. He was nominated for three Academy Awards and won one over the course of his 30+ year career. While he didn’t have the look of your typical leading man of the time, this may have worked to his benefit, allowing him to play a wide range of roles—classical and modern, heroes and villains, dramatic and comedic. He served as one of Daniel Day-Lewis’ inspirations, with Day-Lewis saying, “He was probably the greatest film actor who came from that period of time. He had something quite remarkable. His generosity as an actor; he fed himself into that work. As an actor, you cannot take your eyes off him.”
Before I get into The Private Life of Henry VIII, I do want to touch on the work that fully sold me on Laughton as a one-of-a-kind talent. Seeing his sole directing credit, The Night of the Hunter, for the first time cracked something wide open in me. I can’t remember being so transfixed on a film in quite a long time. It’s been about a week and a half since I watched it and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since—it’s a movie that leaves an indelible mark on you. The film is about a ruthless, conniving serial killer, played by Robert Mitchum, who poses as a preacher and pursues two children in rural, Great Depression-era West Virginia, in search of money hidden by their father. In Heaven and Hell to Play With: The Filming of The Night of the Hunter, author Preston Neal Jones describes the film as “Mother Goose with goose bumps.”
Without getting too into specifics, because I think this is a film best experienced with as little known about it as possible, it’s one of the most effective films to show both the most terrifying and the most heartening, uplifting, and courageous parts of humanity, all in 92 minutes. This may sound platitudinous at this point, but it feels like exactly the type of film a lot of us could use right now—one which proves that while the evils of the world may be powerful and relentless, they can be overcome by those who are willing to fight the good fight, to provide community, and to protect our most vulnerable.
So many elements of this film are in peak form—the score, along with the recurring device of characters singing throughout the film, provides a beautiful and haunting mood throughout. The German expressionist-inspired cinematography and art direction are minimal but striking, like you’re watching the dream (or, more appropriately, nightmare) of a child. The acting is some of the best of this era, especially the performances from Mitchum, Lillian Gish, and an impressive, subtle turn from child actor Billy Chapin.
All of these elements come together brilliantly thanks to Laughton’s direction. The film was a box office bomb and critically panned when it was first released, which Laughton took personally, and he never directed another film again. On the one hand, I’m grateful to have this singular cinematic gift from Laughton—it’s comforting to know that if he was going to make only one film, at least he made one of the best. On the other hand, it deeply saddens me to think about the potential wealth of great films we’d have from Charles Laughton if he hadn’t been so discouraged by the reception of The Night of the Hunter. If only he could have lived long enough to see the public opinion eventually turn around.
All sauce and no substance, just like one of Cromwell’s speeches. And just as difficult to swallow.
But! Enough about The Night of the Hunter. That film was, criminally, not nominated for any Academy Awards, much less Best Picture. Similar to my synopsis for Little Women, it feels a little silly and redundant to recap The Private Life of Henry VIII—we all know Henry VIII had a bunch of wives, right? And that each wife came with her own unique, sometimes scandalous, often tragic story? And that Henry VIII was a weird, boorish tyrant?
It’s another story that’s been told many times over, with varying degrees of historical accuracy. The Private Life of Henry VIII doesn’t really tell us anything we don’t already know—it basically takes us through Henry VIII’s marriages in chronological order, though for some reason it completely skips over the first one. A title card appears at the beginning of the film, claiming that Henry VIII’s first marriage, to Katherine of Aragon, was largely uneventful. I disagree! Maybe this was a cheeky joke from the filmmakers, considering Henry VIII’s 24-year marriage to Katherine was quite dramatic, but would have likely made the runtime of the film eight hours long if they were to include it.
The film also doesn’t really include Henry VIII’s second and possibly most infamous marriage, to Anne Boleyn (Merle Oberon). We start the film on the day of Boleyn’s execution. So, okay, pretty intense way to kick off a movie, my dudes! Shortly after her Boleyn’s beheading, Henry marries Jane Seymour (Wendy Barrie), whom Henry loved very much, but was also apparently a bit of a dummy. She ends up dying in childbirth 18 months into their marriage, and when Henry receives this news he is extremely, disturbingly unbothered. He somehow manages to plow through this devastating event in order to marry German princess Anne of Cleves (Elsa Lanchester), a marriage of convenience and diplomacy. Neither Henry nor Anne ever seem to be super into the marriage, and it ends after Anne deliberately makes herself unattractive so that Henry will divorce her and she can move on to marry the man she actually loves. But Henry and Anne essentially stay besties, as we come to see later on in the film.
Following his marriage fo Anne of Cleves, Henry, now aged fifty, resigns himself to never getting married again. He quickly pivots on this stance after his barber suggests he is too old to get married again anyway. Apparently having a thing for Katherines, he weds the young Katherine Howard (Binnie Barnes). They have a really giddy, amusing time together, underscored by a scene at a banquet where Henry participates in an impromptu wrestling match that leaves him exhausted. Who’s not exhausted, though? Apparently Katherine Howard, as she has a steamy affair with Thomas Culpepper (Robert Donat), Henry’s courtier and close friend. After the affair is discovered, Henry has them both executed.
This is the point where we’re reacquainted with Anne of Cleves, as she advises the aging and defeated Henry to marry Katherine Parr (Everley Gregg). And why the hell not, right? What’s one more marriage? We jump to around three years into the marriage—Henry has aged significantly, and Katherine Parr is apparently a real wet blanket, preventing Henry from consuming his favorite food and drink. In the final scene, Katherine leaves Henry alone in a room with a huge food spread. He pulls a little “don’t mind if I do,” grabs a leg of roasted chicken, gnaws on the bone, and breaks the fourth wall to declare, “Six wives—and the best of them's the worst.” Haha! WOMEN, am I right fellas?
Have you ever stood on the edge of a cliff and looked over? It draws you, tugs at you to hurl yourself down. You know that if you look again, you’re—you’re gone. Are you asking me to look again, Kate? Are you?
Okay, I’m feeling reinvigorated. I’m feeling alive! After a run of tepid duds from the 1931 Academy Awards, I finally feel like we’re hitting a good stride and watching some genuinely enjoyable films.
The Private Life of Henry VIII, on paper, sounds like something that normally wouldn’t work for me. I could not be less interested in a monarchy or the life of a monarch. Henry VIII, in particular, seems like someone I actively want to know less about. The only reason I know the little bit that I do about his reign is because I think it might come in handy if I should someday get on Jeopardy! or something. Otherwise, it’s simply not possible for me to care less about some powerful weirdo from 500 years ago. I’ve got too many powerful weirdos from the present day to worry about, man!
So it caught me by surprise just how intrigued and entertained I was by this movie. I was immediately drawn and moved in by Merle Oberon as Anne Boleyn, as she solemnly yet peacefully accepts her fate. The way she stoically remarks, “What a lovely day,” just before being led to the guillotine, is haunting and tragic. It’s almost like, hey, maybe she didn’t deserve to be executed? Especially considering historians debate the validity of her charges?
From there, the film becomes fairly formulaic and repetitive in terms of its structure. Henry VIII decries marriage, his barber (?) basically negs him into getting married again, he marries, his wife either cheats on him or dies or both, rinse and repeat. This story, in the wrong hands, was bound to become very stale very quickly, but Laughton’s manic and engrossing performance saves it.
Another highlight for me, and a refreshing break from the story’s pattern, was the segment in the middle of the film where Henry VIII is married to Anne of Cleves, played by Laughton’s actual wife, the lovely and brilliant Elsa Lanchester. It’s no surprise that these two were partners in real life—their chemistry on screen is charming and electric. Even after the marriage between Henry and Anne has long dissolved, the two make a great pair of on-screen confidantes, playing off of each other with playful ease. I could have watched a movie based on this relationship alone, and I would have been wildly entertained.
The movie loses me a bit by spending inexplicably uneven amounts of time with each wife, spending the most amount of time with arguably the least interesting one, Katherine Howard, and leaving out Henry’s first wife entirely. I think I was particularly disappointed with the focus on certain characters over others mainly because I wanted to see more of Merle Oberon’s performance. Anne Boleyn is by far the most (in)famous of Henry VIII’s wives, and sure, there’s no shortage of content about her at this point, but I feel like we could have gotten a little more mileage out of her story here. While I do find it interesting and bold to begin the story on the day of her execution, it feels like we’re doing her story a disservice.
And on that note, I wish we’d gotten more of the wives’ perspectives throughout the story. The closest we get is through Katherine Howard’s affair, but even that fell flat for me. We see what Henry is like, we see how he floats in and out of these relationships, we see him grapple with his emotions as he’s cheated on, as his wives die, as he’s under pressure to produce a male heir—but what was it like for these women to be married to him?
Ultimately this is a deeply unserious film that’s not very concerned with examining the inner lives, feelings, and experiences of these women. The title of the film tells us as much. So I can’t really be mad at it for essentially being a historical romp with the occasional somber moment thrown in. Is it everything I wanted it to be? No. Did it still exceed my expectations? Somehow, weirdly… yes!
Six wives… and the best of them’s the worst.
Quick Facts:
Nominated for 2 Academy Awards, won 1
Best Picture
Best Actor (Charles Laughton, won)
One of the first mainstream movies to feature an audible burp.
Charles Laughton would go on to portray Henry VIII a second time in Young Bess (1953).
Stray Notes:
I hope this isn’t boring, please don’t be boring!!
Way to kick it off, by IMMEDIATELY executing Anne Boleyn. Guess it won’t be boring!
I wish Henry VIII was played by Orson Welles. Henry VIII basically IS Orson Welles.
Charles Laughton’s performance is kinda cunty though…
“What a lovely day.” Oof.
Merle Oberon as Anne Boleyn - very poised, elegant, dignified performance
They’re really just blowing through these huge events…
Well he sure got over Jane’s death real fast!
I wonder how many times this man had to devour a whole roasted chicken for this banquet scene
The way he eats and belches and grunts… awesome. Love a sloppy king.
Henry VIII is fun as hell to watch but this story/the structure of it isn’t doing much for me
Not quite an hour in, and the pacing has slowed significantly
Henry VIII explaining how sex works to Anne of Cleves… lol
If only all divorce settlements could be that easy
This running bit with the barber is very funny
Funny movie tbh!
The stuff with the shadows during the wrestling scene is very well done/interesting to look at
“Hard work when a man of 50 wants to show his wife that he’s no more than 30.” Tough but fair!
Dr. BUTTS!!!
So like… if he’s in a good mood he just cancels executions?
Other than the aforementioned shadow stuff, this is deeply un-cinematic. To the point where they didn’t even change angles when the king’s back was fully facing the camera
I don’t know much about Henry VIII but this version of him seems quite pleasant? And that can’t possibly be how he really was? Either way I would simply not cheat on him!!
This last wife’s a bit of a ballbuster, huh?
The final scene of him sneaking more chicken is GOLD. So funny. Incredible facial expressions from Laughton.
My Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️
Next Up: She Done Him Wrong (1933)
Well, technically. Laughton also co-directed The Man on the Eiffel Tower with Burgess Meredith, but was uncredited for his contributions.