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July 26, 2002
The Guardian
Heads on the block
by Stuart Jeffries
The
English civil war drama To Kill a King was so
cash-strapped, its star had to pay to have the set removed
from Hampton Court. Stuart Jeffries was there
It's a
bitter Tuesday in February at Hampton Court Palace and
Olivia Williams is having a break from filming a key scene
in the English civil war drama To Kill a King. She plays
Lady Anne, wife of the commander-in-chief of the
parliamentary army, Sir Thomas Fairfax. The history books
recall Lady Anne as a spirited woman, who disrupted the
trial of Charles I because she did not believe mere
mortals like Oliver Cromwell had the right to end the life
of a divinely installed monarch. Director Mike Barker
demands take after take of a scene in which she and
Fairfax (played by Dougray Scott) confront corrupt Baron
Denzil Holles (James Bolam) to try to thwart his scheme to
help Charles I rob the Treasury and bring the English
revolution to a quick end.
Like the
fitting of Williams's corset, the making of this film has
demanded a series of painful squeezes. The history of To
Kill a King is one of unpaid wages and bills, corner-
cutting, reshooting and rescripting on the hoof,
computer-generated miracles, bafflingly complicated
funding deals and bankruptcy, not once but twice. It's
also a rare story of a British film made without public
financial backing.
The saga
began three years ago when a novice scriptwriter called
Jenny Mayhew wrote a promising screenplay set in the
aftermath of the first civil war in 17th-century England.
Her focus was the relationship between Fairfax - who led
the parliamentary forces to victory against the army of
Charles I (Rupert Everett) - and Oliver Cromwell (Tim
Roth), the leader of parliament and later Lord Protector
of England. After a wartime friendship, Cromwell and
Fairfax clash over key political decisions - notably what
to do with the king - as they decide how to build a new
England. Fairfax refuses to sign the king's death warrant,
thus ending the friendship between those historically rare
beasts, two English revolutionaries.
The first
thing you notice about To Kill a King is the lack of
battles - not even the key Cromwell 1645 victory at Naseby,
which ended the first civil war. Producer Kevin Loader
explains: "The opening credit sequence is set at
Naseby's aftermath, so there are bodies on the battlefield
and the friendship between Fairfax and Cromwell is made
clear. But I think the narrative of a battle is quite
difficult to translate to a film and actually not that
interesting. Onscreen battles have to be incredibly simple
or you can't understand them. Like in Braveheart - there's
a load of blokes on the left of the screen in blue woad
and there's a load of blokes on the right with pointed
sticks and they're going to meet in the middle."
The other
reason is that its budget was just over £12m. Braveheart's, for example, was £46m. "We couldn't
really have 20,000 people running down a hill like in
Braveheart," says director Mike Barker. "Not
least because we only have four extras." Ewan
McGregor, the original Cromwell, dropped out, as did Emily
Watson, who was going to be Lady Anne. But the real
problems started soon after filming began in January. By
then, producer Loader had roped in his old chum Mike
Barker to direct. Surrounded by a cast he admired and a
crew he had painstakingly assembled, Barker set to work
and things went smoothly, boosted by English Heritage
allowing filming to take place at Hampton Court Palace for
the first time. "We were very persistent and
diplomatic in our approaches," says Loader.
Rupert
Everett was beheaded at 2pm on January 30 in their
simulated scaffold, just as Charles had been in 1649. On
the day I visited the set, it all seemed to be proceeding
very nicely. Then it all went wrong. "What
happened," says Barker, "was that the film went
bankrupt once because the finance that was meant to be
there wasn't, so no bank or bond would cover it - and
without the bond, you can't do the rest of your finance.
There's no guarantee that there will be a film at the end
of it." Barker bore the consequences of this funding
collapse and suspended filming. "On the last day of
filming, when we went bankrupt, we didn't even have enough
money to remove our 200ft set of Whitehall Palace from
Hampton Court. We'd dug all the lawns up and we couldn't
replace them because we couldn't pay for turf. I mean this
is the Queen's palace! It was really embarrassing. Dougray
came up with the money to pay for the set removal."
Jeremy
Thomas, producer of Crash and Sexy Beast, helped rescue
Barker's film by putting together a distribution deal to
allow the film to continue shooting. "It's been a
really fraught time," says Barker. "When it went
down the first time, I was sure we'd get it up and running
again. But when it went down the second time, I didn't
believe it would ever get made. This is the first time in
history that a film has gone bankrupt twice and still got
made."
But the deal
forced the film-makers to cut the picture's budget and the
name of the film was also changed from Cromwell and
Fairfax to To Kill a King. With new money pledged, Barker
started filming again. "The hardest thing was we had
to save several million quid off the budget, mid process,
which is very hard because you've shot half the film and
so you've got to rework what you've got to make sure it
works with the rest of the film."
Barker and
his faithful 200 cast and crew started working again on
location in Dover in the spring. "We knew the money
was coming in, but at the end of three weeks, all the crew
were paying their own per diems - that's all the dinner
money and stuff they get when they're away from home. It
was like an army that hadn't been paid, and it should have
got ugly, but they were fantastic. After three weeks, the
money still hadn't come through and many felt
uncomfortable going into the fourth week unpaid. I
realised we were going to lose the film, but we were so
close to getting the money. I knew it was coming but it
was so difficult to prove it. We had been let down so many
times.
"I went
round cast and crew and said, if you all agree to stand
down and not get paid while you're stood down, we could
possibly resurrect it, and that's what happened. They
stood down for another three weeks then we got the film
going again for a second time. And this time we pulled it
off."
Not least
Scott, who put up £70,000 of his own money to ensure that
the film, on which he had been working as an associate
producer for two years, got made. And it did get made,
with money from an extraordinary range of sources, most of
them foreign. "I've had to add about 30 seconds to
the producers' credits because so many people came in with
£50 here and £100 there. It's the longest title sequence
in the history of film-making," says Barker. But
neither the Film Council of England and Wales nor any
other public body appears on that list. "There was a
time when they could have helped us out but they chose not
to, which we were all very disappointed about, especially
when it was a British cast, a British crew and British
subject matter. Also, if we'd gone down, we'd have owed a
lot of money. It's a shame they didn't bail us out."
The few
scenes that Barker and his editor allow me to see look
solid enough, and I feel a lump rising in my throat when
Everett says his last words and when Roth later holds
aloft a hand covered in the beheaded king's blood and
yells to the crowd: "With this you're subjects no
more, but citizens!" As Barker sits in the
post-production studios in Soho on a hot summer day, he
realises his film has gone through many more revolutions
than England. "I found it really exciting, to be
honest. I made it into something of a political thriller
almost out of necessity with Fairfax and Cromwell going
after the guys who try to corrupt their revolution. The
whole turmoil made me kind of buzzy."
At one
point, he recalls, they were filming Charles's trial at
the Bodleian library in Oxford, but lost the location
because lack of funds forced them to stop filming.
"So we went to Harrow school at the last minute and
filmed it there. And using tricks and stuff, we managed to
make it look like the sequences we'd filmed in Oxford. We
had to do that sort of thing again and again."
Barker's
film is scheduled for release next year. "I've
suffered a lot in its making," he says. "But I
feel I am now a really ingenious film-maker."
©
Guardian Newspapers Limited 2002
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