Annika reminded me to note, belatedly, that yesterday was St. Crispian's Day. On that day in 1415, the longbows of Henry V's outnumbered and exhausted English army annihilated the flower of French chivalry at Agincourt. Henry did not actually conquer France there and then, but the battle opened the door to his ultimate victory (though he died of dysentery in 1422); his son, Henry VI, as an infant, was the only person ever actually crowned as both King of England and King of France.
But of course, it's Shakespeare and not the historians who made Henry V immortal, and I can never get tired of this:
Posted by Dave J at October 26, 2006 07:59 PM | TrackBack (0) |Sound...raise a glass of red and say with me "confusion to the French!"
Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at October 27, 2006 04:07 AM"...for England, Harry, and Almighty God!"
Damn. I've seen parts of it, I really need to see the whole thing.
Posted by: Ken S, Fifth String on the Banjo of Life at October 27, 2006 05:24 AMDamn, that was an excellent movie. My favorite scene is Brian Blessed delivering a message to the "Dolphin". hehehe
once more into the netflix queue!
Posted by: Mr. Bingley at October 27, 2006 06:22 AMIIRC, there was a WWI ghost story about a battle near Agincourt where spectral archers helped the Brits battle the French. I can't find mention of it anywhere, but I trust my memory.
Posted by: Lisa at October 27, 2006 07:24 AMI meant the Germans. Sorry. Not enough coffee in my blood yet.
Posted by: Lisa at October 27, 2006 07:58 AMWe few, we happy few, we band of brothers ...
By far the best acting Branagh ever did, and the only good movie he made. Great movie, actually, even better than the Olivier film.
One of my all time favorite EVER. Not only because Branagh did the most pheNOMenal job ever (You MUST see it, Ken.) and gathered the most pheNOMenal crew around him (Ian Holme, Derek Jacobi, Judi Dench...I can't name them all here. AND the score! Wowsers. The fellow who wrote it actually sings the non nobis dominae at Agincourt.), but because of the memory that film brings back.
It was only playing at a little art house theatre in Laguna Beach and I was desparate to see it. major dad thought we could hit their Saturday matinee with Ebola and be pretty safe. We got there just as the theatre opened and found seats we could isolate oursleves in and still see, warning everyone who went to sit near us that "we've got a third-grader with us." Almost to a one they all said "thanks for letting us know" and would move a row or two away. Except for one guy who, bless his heart, said "Really? That's okay ~ I'd be curious to know what he thinks of it." plopping down right in front of us.
This is no exaggeration ~ through the whole long thing, the one and ONLY time Ebola opened his mouth was as the French nobles were staging on the hill above the field. The English were done with "St. Crispin's Day" speeches and scurrying through the cold and damp to their positions behind the barricades. As they stared at each other, Ebola whispered, "Mommy?"
"What honey?" I whispered back.
"Who are the bad guys?" he asked.
"The clean ones."
"Okay."
And that was it.
Magical.
And Ken, because I'm the pedant you know and love, and because I adore both the play and the movie Branagh of it, that's actually "cry God for Harry, England, and Saint George!"
Posted by: Dave J at October 27, 2006 03:07 PM