#lynne frederick

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LYNNE FREDERICK as KATHERINE HOWARD

HENRY VIII AND HIS SIX WIVES  (1972)

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period drama appreciation week 2024

favourite costume(s): katherine howard's gown (henry viii and his six wives)

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Lynne Frederick as Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna of Russia

Nicholas and Alexandra (1971)

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Lynne Frederick by Patrick Lichfield, 1970/1971

Via instagram.com/80slollita

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Lynne Frederick

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alayne in the vale:

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Lynne Frederick in Phase IV (1974)

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Magazine clippings

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LYNNE FREDERICK playing dress-up as Grand Duchess Tatiana on the set of NICHOLAS AND ALEXANDRA (1971)

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Phase IV (1974)

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Lynne Frederick as Katherine Howard in Henry VIII and his Six Wives (1972)

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Lynne Frederick as Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna

Nicholas and Alexandra (1971)

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Who is your fav portrayal of Jane Seymour and Kathryn Howard?

Good question! My favorite portrayals of Jane Seymour and Catherine Howard are Anne Stallybrass in The Six Wives of Henry VIII (1970), the BBC miniseries, and Lynne Frederick in its movie adaptation, Henry VIII and His Six Wives (1972), respectively. In case you want to watch either portrayal, both the 1970 show and the 1972 film are available on OK (dot) ru. Just search for "the six wives of Henry VIII Jane Seymour" for the first one and the title of the movie for the second, making sure to choose the video which is 1:59:19. Best of all, there's no ads or popups!

Anyways, here's the long answer itself. It's quite a long post below, so be warned.

It's very easy to make Jane into either a cipher (e.g. Wolf Hall, Anne Boleyn [2021]) or a bland non-entity (e.g. Anne of the Thousand Days, Season 3 of The Tudors), but Stallybrass portrays her sympathetically, yet as a rounded human. That's the key, really. This is a living, breathing Jane, not the bland Goody Two-Shoes of Annabelle Wallis in Season 3 of The Tudors. As an Anne fan, I do feel this portrayal exonerates her rather too much of culpability in the former's unjust execution - this portrayal of Jane isn't involved at all with the plot to get rid of Anne but feels guilty anyways. However, it's a very moving depiction of a gentle, introverted believer in traditional Catholicism who would much rather be in the countryside, at Wolf Hall, than dealing with court intrigue.

Henry falls for her during his 1535 visit to Wolf Hall, and while Jane wants to protect her chastity, they bond over their shared fear of the plague and faith. Despite her arrival back at court after the royal visit, she longs for the comforts of her country home. She tells her sister-in-law Anne Stanhope that she'd much rather be arranging flowers at Wolf Hall than be at court after Anne rips Henry's locket off her neck. This Jane also stands up for what she believes in. She shows a love for monasticism at her first meeting with Henry, passionately telling him that the locals visiting Hailes Abbey are "afraid for the abbeys, sir, for their souls!". Later, she pleads with Henry to restore the abbeys during the Pilgrimage of Grace, which she argues must be God's punishment. The fact Henry proceeds to scream at her and damage her faith by revealing the Blood of Christ from Hailes is in fact, a vial of duck's blood, doesn't diminish her bravery.

Indeed, Jane takes no part in the plot to get rid of Anne here, although she nevertheless feels guilty over it. She intercedes for Mary to return to court after her submission, to which Henry replies, "If you had your way, my little nun," he says, "every villain in the country would go free." Jane's shy reply that "I should make a very poor ruler" is met with more condescending "affection" from Henry. Indeed, this version of Jane actually flees from the Christmas 1536 celebrations at one point, as it gets too overwhelming for her. This makes Henry's condescension and later, outright mental and emotional abuse, even more heartbreaking; even worse, Henry's treatment of her is probably just how it really was in history. After he shows her the duck's blood, Henry quickly apologizes and sinks into self-pity so bad Jane has to comfort him while pitifully weeping, "I am bound to obey and serve you, sir." Even as Henry celebrates Edward's birth and baptism, he fails to notice Jane lapsing in and out of consciousness. His tears by her body, lying in state, are too little, too late.

Lynne Frederick was actually only 17 when this movie was filmed - looking back, perhaps they could've waited a year or two. Nevertheless, this is somehow the best portrayal of Catherine Howard on screen despite her only appearing on screen for fifteen minutes in a two-hour movie. Let me just briefly summarize her storyline and give some analysis, because there's so much good stuff in here.

Frederick's Catherine is a vivacious, warm-hearted teenager who finds herself the object of Henry's unwanted affections. This Henry is, as in history, prematurely aged and far taller/stouter than Catherine, which makes his asking her uncle Norfolk whether she is "a good girl" even more disturbing. As Henry leaves Lambeth, Norfolk and Bishop Gardiner walk with Catherine, who protests that "I had not looked for it, sir. I had wished -" Gardiner then cuts her off saying that she "may no longer consider your own wishes. You now have a duty to return England to the true faith." It's a very telling exchange, as Catherine's own emotions or feelings are brutally trampled on by the men around her; all she can do is look mournfully at both of them.

When next we see her, she's already married to Henry, enjoying the jewels and rich clothes that being his queen brings. It's a grotesque sight, as the teenage Catherine kisses, and is in turn fondled by an old man nearly three times her age. However, being queen isn't all positive, as she reveals to Henry that she had a nightmare of a bird caught in a room crying out to her for help, perhaps a manifestation of her own feelings of helplessness. Her kind-heartedness is shown when she sends a puppy to Anne of Cleves, who in this film has solely been depicted as comic relief. In a later scene, as Henry limps to the window on his cane, he blows a kiss to Catherine, who is walking in the garden with Culpeper. Although she returns his kiss, it's a sign of things to come.

While Henry and Catherine enjoy themselves on the Northern Progress, in private, he is disappointed to discover she's not yet pregnant. Nevertheless, he gives her a rich jewel, although he does have to read the text for her, as Catherine admits she can't read very well, another heartbreaking detail. The audience's (and my) horror skyrockets when Henry proceeds to uncover Catherine's thigh from beneath her dressing robe and rain kisses on it, as the camera pans up to an incredibly disturbed Catherine who winces and tries to pull herself together. Her marriage to Henry is a gilded cage, and it is difficult to escape the conclusion this Catherine thinks of Henry more as a father figure than a husband.

After Henry is told of her premarital relationships, though, he abandons her, much to her dismay. She is then questioned by Archbishop Cranmer, maintaining that she was raped by Dereham "without my will or consent" and staunchly denying a precontract, despite Cranmer's argument it would save her life. When he accuses her of adultery with Culpeper, though, she tearfully pleads for his help, weeping, "I would have wed him. And been his wife. But they worked on me, sir. My Lord of Norfolk - Bishop Gardiner - my grandmother. Talking, whispering together. Telling him I was bound. That I was bound to the king. And now my fame is gone and I'm nothing young and I -" When Cranmer tells her she must calm down, Catherine swings around and screams, "Don't touch me! You all handle me!" It's a poignant allusion to her premarital abuse, as it's specified in the movie that Catherine was only 13 when Manox preyed on her. She then recalls her cousin Anne's bravery in death before dissolving into another flood of tears.

In the end, she makes her way to the block, silently but with composure. She pays the executioner, is blindfolded, kneels, and then, holding a rosary, stretches out her hands like the wings of a bird in flight. The tragedy of this depiction of Catherine (and arguably the real Catherine) is that from the moment we see her, she's a pawn of men, who use her to further their own desires and agendas. Only in death is she freed.