Shakespeare's three kings, in London

That Shakespearean prophesy (from Henry IV, Part II) remains profound, as modern-day presidents from Washington to Moscow to Damascus — not to mention one embattled governor of New Jersey — can attest. A tenuous crown comes with the job, and you never know what’s going to threaten it next. Leaders don’t get a break, nor should they expect one.

For that reason, the three Shakespearean kings currently reigning on London stages provide useful lessons for any leader with the time and the sense to listen. They also offer keen insight for the rest of us into what it means to rule.

Richard II, that headstrong young king struggling to keep his crown, has everything going for him — youth, health, the devotion of his people — but he can’t resist the temptation to exploit his absolute powers. He finds an excuse to banish his loyal cousin Henry Bolingbroke, then turns around and seizes Henry’s lands to subsidize a war in Ireland.

But upon returning to England, Richard finds that Henry has arrived ahead of him and gained widespread popularity. Henry appeals to Richard, saying he’ll remain a loyal subject and won’t challenge Richard’s rule, provided that Richard rightfully return his lands. Richard pridefully refuses, leaving Henry no choice but to mobilize an army to topple Richard from the throne. As Henry’s forces storm Richard’s palace, the deluded king crumbles, and Bolingbroke is crowned Henry IV.

Director Gregory Doran has staged a masterful production in regal Royal Shakespeare fashion, with standout performances by the veteran Shakespearean actors Michael Pennington as John of Gaunt and Oliver Ford Davies as the Duke of York. David Tennant (of Dr. Who fame) plays the effete Richard with a disarming fey-ness that masks the king’s cold, cunning ruthlessness. Once defeated, however, Tennant gains our sympathy with his Christ-like stature — white-robed, barefooted, his long locks flowing, his arms outstretched like one on the cross. Led away in chains, he faces imprisonment in the Tower with resignation and humility: “Nor any man/With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased/With being nothing.”

Richard reigned centuries ago (1377-1399) but his lesson still applies for any present-day leader: Don’t double-cross your loyal subjects, don’t abuse your power, or else be prepared for a backlash and an ultimate demise. Above all, recognize your own fallibility, and know when it’s time to relinquish the crown before it’s knocked off your royal head.

Personal charm helps

At the Noël Coward Theatre in London’s West End, meanwhile, King Henry V is suffering a different kind of leadership crisis. He’s trying to conquer another country — France — with an army that’s one-fifth the size of his opponent’s. But Henry feels he’s justified — after all, those French lands were once conquered by his ancestors, and God’s on his side (he believes).

This is just the kind of challenge that the enthusiastic King Henry relishes. He rallies his troops for battle, inspiring their unwavering loyalty against all odds. He himself leads the English to major victory at Agincourt (1415).

The lesson? Don’t even think about waging war unless you enjoy the moral support of your armies, not to mention your people. Believe in your mission, and put yourself on the front line of whatever cause you champion. Be diplomatic with your enemy every step of the way — it helps generate goodwill once you’ve conquered them. Confidence and persistence also help (“Once more unto the breach!”). Finally, your personal charms (watch the winsome Jude Law, who plays Henry with panache) can accomplish the near impossible, like wooing and wedding your defeated enemy’s daughter.

In this congenial, crowd-pleasing production, director Michael Grandage has staged his Henry V in period costume but has brought it into the 21st century with a clever device. Instead of the “chorus” required by the script, he’s given the play’s narration to a young student in jeans, Union Jack T-shirt, and backpack, rendering the play’s message contemporary and accessible.

Switching sides

At London’s Donmar Warehouse, a third Shakespearean king (or so-called “consul”) faces the most complex challenge of all. Coriolanus, courageous commander of ancient Rome’s armies, returns victorious from a bloody war with the Volscians to find his city in a state of abject poverty. Although the Romans give Coriolanus a hero’s welcome and elect him consul, the politicians blame him for the city’s dire straits. As a result, the people turn against Coriolanus and banish him.

In a frenzy of anger and revenge, Coriolanus makes a shocking move: He switches sides. He offers himself to the defeated Volscians, vowing to lead them in war against Rome, his own city. But his mother, the brave Volumnia, meets him at the city gates along with his wife and small son and prevails upon him to negotiate a peace treaty instead. When Coriolanus returns to the Volscians with the proposal, however, they turn on him and murder him.

Tom Hiddleston (of Cymbeline and Midnight In Paris) plays this conflicted leader with charisma and stature, and Deborah Findlay offers a formidable Volumnia. Director Josie Rourke sets her gripping, gritty, minimalist production in front of a stone wall whose blood-red graffiti-scrawled slogans (“Even dogs must eat!”) underscore the urgency of its contemporary themes.

The lessons for contemporary leaders who care to listen? Don’t be vindictive. Listen to the polls — they don’t lie. If you lose popular support, you lose it. Don’t retaliate or seek revenge, or ultimately you’ll bring about your own downfall. Above all, listen to your mother.