Mark Gatiss as John Gielgud

Last year I saw The Motive and the Cue by Jack Thorne, directed by Sam Mendes on the West End. I knew nothing about it except it was starring Johnny Flynn and Mark Gatiss, two actors I really liked. I knew Johnny Flynn as Mr. Knightley from Emma (2020) and Mark Gatiss as one of the co-creators of BBC’s Sherlock, in which he also played Mycroft Holmes. Just them being in this play was enough to make me want to see it, regardless of not knowing anything about the story. So, I bought myself the cheapest ticket and went. As I was waiting for the show to start, I thought I should look up a general synopsis. Come to find out that this play is about the 1964 production of Hamlet on Broadway starring Richard Burton, directed by John Gielgud. This got me so excited, and it ended up being my favorite play I had ever seen.

The thing that stood out to me the most, and what ultimately this blog post is about is Mark Gatiss’ phenomenal performance as Sir John Gielgud, for which he won an Olivier Award for Best Actor in 2024. Throughout the play Gielgud is coming to terms that he’s “out of his prime” and Burton is the new age of Shakespearean acting. Gielgud is grappling with watching Burton play the role that Gielgud has practically perfected.

I specifically remember the most moving part of the play was when Burton is trying to figure out the “speak the speech, I pray you” monologue, and he can’t quite get it. He’s doing too much, throwing his body around, raising his voice, and Gielgud tells him to let the ideas come to him in the moment and to not force anything. This angers Burton, who storms off. Gielgud then takes a seat in the middle of the stage and recites the monologue.

The performance of this monologue alone could have won Gatiss the Olivier. You have to be such a talented actor to be able to make a Shakespeare monologue compelling whilst just sitting in a chair and speaking it. During this speech, the audience sees everything Gielgud is grappling with: his true love of theatre, love of the Shakespearean language, his longing to play Hamlet despite his age, his struggle to watch Burton play him, and finally his resolute acceptance that it’s not his time to shine anymore. Mark Gatiss completely disappeared; it was John Gielgud on that stage. As he was reciting the speech, even though I was in the highest seat in a theatre full of hundreds of people, I felt as if he were speaking directly to me, that he and I were the only two people in the room. I felt every single emotion he went through as if I were also going through them. By the end of the monologue I was crying. He finished the speech, and for it was silent for a moment, then immense applause, and I was reminded that I was, in fact, not alone with John Gielgud, but in a theatre watching a play. 

In The Creative Act, Rick Rubin writes that “art creates a profound connection between the artist and their audience. Through that connection, both can heal.” This is exactly what happened during “speak this speech.” I can’t speak for Mark Gatiss, but I will say that his performance that night healed me. Walking home after the show I couldn’t stop crying. Everything felt so sensational and cathartic. Almost a year later, I still think about that performance almost every day.