In 16th Century England, King Henry VIII (Robert Shaw) wants a divorce from his second wife to marry his third. Sir Thomas More (Paul Scofield), Chancellor, who found his way to go along with the first divorce, finds his Catholic faith wonât allow him to support this one. He trusts that the law, and careful use of words, will keep him alive and his wife (Wendy Hiller) and daughter (Susannah York) well. But Cromwell (Leo McKern), with the help of Rich (John Hurt), works to have More either publically change his position, or die.
Writing as one who had his catechism classes at Saint Thomas More church, A Man For All Seasons isnât about a man who is for all seasons. Itâs about the path of a saint. It, and Becket before it, were the new strand of religious films in the 1960s. There was still money to be made from pop Christianity, but the Biblical-adjacent action epic (Ben Hur, The Ten Commandments, Samson and Delilah, Quo Vadis) had run its course. So miracles were put on hold and humans became center stageâhumans defending The Church. The costumes and settings were still flashy and âhistorical,â but the armor was gone and now when people spoke English, its because it was their language. These films were more respectful than fun. They were a calm service instead of yelling âhalleluiahâ in the aisles. They aimed for awards, and a return on investment.
A Man For All Seasons, again like Becket, was based on a popular play, with Paul Scofield being ported over from the stage as More. The most substantial change was the elimination of the âCommon Manââthe portal character who spoke to the audience and steered their emotions. Without him, this becomes a story of one rich and powerful guy (saint) against more rich and powerful guys, with little concern for regular people.
More is the man of conscience. He sticks to the truth, and to himself, while others bend, and thus, is the hero. Well, not if you read the screenplay without already having accepted More as a saint. If you start with the assumption that heâs holy, then youâve just got your dayâs catechism. If you donât, then the dialog doesnât give us the white hats and black hats that the filmmakers wanted. More doesnât speak as the cinematically expected unflinching paragon, but as a conman using sophistry. He may be for the truth, but he wonât stand up and state the truth to the king. Instead he twists words and the law around to find a loophole to escape through. Smarter than mouthing-off to Henry? Absolutely. It just isnât heroic. And without that boldness, his position looks less reasonable and more stubborn. People are going to die. Cromwellâs words are the reasonable ones. He knows that the king will have his way, and wants the least trouble (that is suffering and death). Cromwell gives More an out, a way to agree without completely agreeing, and Henry gives More his own sophistic way around the problem, but More wonât budge.
Without that Common Man character, More comes off as an idiot and an ass. Well, if you just read the words. But we canât have that as heâs a saint. So the good guys and bad guys are assigned not by what they say, or what they do, but how they say it. More is the good guy because Scofield speaks calmly, with a bit of a twinkle in his eye and a self deprecating smile. Likewise his daughter. Henry is a bad guy because Shaw yells and rants (it doesnât matter what he yells, simply that he yells) and generally overacts. Cromwell is an evil schemer because he rubs his hands together and cackles evilly. Rich is a traitorous weakling because John Hurt stutters and looks guilty and mugs for the camera (heâs appalling badâsince I like Hurt elsewhere I blame director Fred Zinnemann). And Moreâs son-in-law-to-be is loud and crude, to show how reasonable More must be.
There are other problems with the A Man For All Seasons: The nighttime cinematography is wretched (lighting matters), the story drags in the last half, and the project was underfunded, giving us too small sets shot from a single angle in some cases, but what kills the film is trying to make More the saint that the Catholic church would later certify him to be. The play was on his side, but heâs a man, and there is nuance involved. The Common Man is more important than More. In making it all about More himself, and shooting it so that itâs very clear that heâs always in the right and the others have no valid points, A Man For All Seasons becomes a film really only fitting for those looking for reverence, not art.