Sean Connery wasn't supposed to be William of Baskerville. Honestly, the director, Jean-Jacques Annaud, spent ages looking for someone else because he thought Connery was "washed up" after Bond. Imagine that. It’s hard to wrap your head around now, but in the mid-80s, Connery was struggling to find his footing in prestige cinema. Then he walked onto the set of The Name of the Rose, grew that iconic, weathered beard, and basically redefined how we see the medieval detective.
The The Name of the Rose cast remains one of the weirdest, grittiest, and most effective ensembles in 1980s cinema. It’s a mix of Hollywood royalty, literal "ugly-cool" character actors, and a teenage Christian Slater who looks like he wandered off a high school campus and into a plague-ridden monastery. When people talk about this movie today, they usually focus on the atmosphere or Umberto Eco’s impossible-to-read book, but the secret sauce was always the faces. Annaud spent months scouting for actors with "distinctive" features. He didn't want pretty people. He wanted people who looked like they lived on 14th-century porridge and guilt.
That 1986 Lineup: More Than Just Sean Connery
If you haven't watched it in a while, the depth of the 1986 film's cast is staggering. You have F. Murray Abraham as Bernardo Gui. This was right after he won the Oscar for Amadeus, and he plays the Inquisitor with this terrifying, cold precision. He’s not a mustache-twirling villain; he’s a man who genuinely believes he is doing God’s work by burning people. The tension between him and Connery is the movie's spine.
Then there’s Christian Slater. This was his big break. He plays Adso of Melk, the novice. It’s a tough role because he has to be the audience surrogate—naive, horny, and constantly confused by William’s logic. Slater’s voice hadn't even fully dropped yet, which actually works for the character’s innocence.
But the real MVP of the supporting cast? Ron Perlman.
Long before Hellboy or Sons of Anarchy, Perlman played Salvatore. He’s the hunchback who speaks a gibberish language made of Latin, Italian, and German. Perlman is buried under layers of prosthetic makeup, but his physical performance is heartbreaking. You also have Michael Lonsdale as the Abbot and Volker Prechtel as Malachia. Prechtel’s face is one of those you never forget—hollow eyes and a bone structure that looks like a Gothic cathedral.
Why the TV Series Cast Took a Different Path
Fast forward to 2019. We got a limited series starring John Turturro. Comparisons are inevitable. Turturro is a genius, but his William of Baskerville is a totally different animal. Where Connery was robust and paternal, Turturro is wiry, neurotic, and deeply intellectual. He feels more like a man who has actually read every book in that library.
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The 2019 The Name of the Rose cast also featured:
- Damian Hardung as Adso (replacing Slater)
- Rupert Everett as Bernardo Gui (replacing F. Murray Abraham)
- Michael Emerson as the Abbot
Rupert Everett brings a certain "fallen aristocrat" energy to the Inquisitor role that differs from Abraham’s sharp-edged fanaticism. It’s more flamboyant. Some fans hated it; others thought it added layers to a character that could easily be a caricature. Michael Emerson, who most people know from Lost, is perfectly cast as a man living in constant fear of his own abbey’s secrets. He has that "shifty librarian" vibe down to a science.
The Mystery of the "Girl"
One of the most interesting casting choices in both versions is "The Girl." In the 1986 film, Valentina Vargas played the nameless peasant girl. She doesn't have a single line of dialogue. Not one. Yet, her performance is the emotional core of Adso's journey. Annaud wanted someone who looked "animalistic" yet beautiful, representing the earthly temptations Adso is supposed to avoid.
In the 2019 version, Antonia Fotaras takes the mantle. Because the TV series has eight hours to fill instead of two, her character actually gets a bit more of a backstory. We see her struggle outside the monastery walls. It’s less about her being a "symbol" and more about her being a human victim of a brutal system.
The Casting Philosophy of Jean-Jacques Annaud
Annaud was obsessed. He didn't just want actors; he wanted "medieval" people. He famously rejected dozens of famous actors because their teeth were too straight or their skin was too clear. He wanted the The Name of the Rose cast to look like they belonged in a world without soap.
He found Feodor Chaliapin Jr. to play Jorge of Burgos, the blind librarian. Chaliapin was the son of a famous Russian opera singer and was nearly 80 years old at the time. His performance is haunting because he isn't "acting" blind—he has this stillness that feels ancient. That’s the difference between a big-budget Hollywood production and what Annaud was doing. He was building a world out of wrinkles and crooked noses.
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Making Sense of the Performance Styles
There’s a weird clash in the 1986 film that shouldn't work but does. You have Connery using his natural Scottish accent. He didn't even try to sound Italian or "monkish." Then you have Slater with his 80s American teenager vibe. Then you have a bunch of European character actors with thick accents. Usually, this is a recipe for a cinematic disaster.
But it works here because the monastery is supposed to be a crossroads. It’s a place where monks from all over the world—England, France, Italy, Germany—converge. The linguistic mess of the The Name of the Rose cast actually reflects the reality of the Benedictine order in the 1300s. It was a globalized community in a localized world.
The TV show is much more "prestige TV" in its approach. Everyone sounds like they belong in the same show. It’s polished. It’s clean. It’s professional. But honestly? It lacks that bizarre, greasy energy of the original movie. When you look at the 1986 cast, you can almost smell the damp stone and the rotting parchment.
Key Differences in Character Interpretation
| Character | 1986 Actor | 2019 Actor | Vibe Shift |
|---|---|---|---|
| William of Baskerville | Sean Connery | John Turturro | From "Action Hero Mentor" to "Obsessive Intellectual" |
| Adso of Melk | Christian Slater | Damian Hardung | From "Confused Teenager" to "Political Idealist" |
| Bernardo Gui | F. Murray Abraham | Rupert Everett | From "Ice-Cold Zealot" to "Sinister Politician" |
| Salvatore | Ron Perlman | Stefano Fresi | From "Grotesque Tragic Figure" to "Tragic Outcast" |
Why Sean Connery’s Casting Was a Gamble
Columbia Pictures actually pulled out of the 1986 film because they hated the idea of Sean Connery in the lead. They thought he was "box office poison" after a string of flops. Annaud had to fight for him. Connery, for his part, was so desperate for the role that he took a massive pay cut and spent weeks in actual monasteries studying how monks walked and prayed.
He realized that William of Baskerville is basically Sherlock Holmes in a cowl. In fact, Umberto Eco named the character as a tribute to The Hound of the Baskervilles. Connery played into that. He used his height and his voice to command the space, making everyone else look small. When he stares down F. Murray Abraham in the courtroom scene, it’s not just two characters fighting; it’s two titans of acting trying to out-intensify each other.
Breaking Down the "Ugly" Monk Casting
Let's talk about the monks who aren't the stars.
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Helmut Qualtinger, who played Remigio da Varagine, was a legendary Austrian satirist. He was massive, sweaty, and looked perpetually terrified. His performance in the 1986 film is a masterclass in "acting through grease." He conveys this deep sense of past trauma—his character was part of a heretical sect—without having to say much.
Then you have William Hickey as Ubertino da Casale. Hickey had one of the most unique voices in Hollywood history. He sounds like a dry leaf scraping against a tombstone. He brings this frantic, apocalyptic energy to the role that makes you wonder if Ubertino is the holiest man in the building or the craziest.
The The Name of the Rose cast wasn't just about finding people who could read lines. It was about finding people who could exist in the shadows. The cinematography by Tonino Delli Colli (who worked with Pasolini) relied on candlelight. If you have "standard" Hollywood faces, they disappear or look fake in that lighting. You need those deep-set eyes and heavy brows to catch the flickering light.
Actionable Takeaways for Movie Buffs and Readers
If you’re diving back into this story, don't just stick to one version. The different casts offer totally different windows into Eco's philosophy.
- Watch the 1986 film for the "Grotesque" Aesthetic: If you want to see how makeup and casting can create a visceral, physical world, this is the gold standard. Focus on Ron Perlman and the "ugly" monks.
- Watch the 2019 series for the "Intellectual" Depth: Because it’s longer, the cast gets to explore the theological debates that the movie had to cut. Turturro’s performance is much closer to the book’s version of William.
- Pay attention to the background actors: In the 1986 version, many of the background monks were not professional actors but people found in small Italian villages. This adds a level of realism you can’t get with SAG extras.
- Compare the Inquisitors: Watch F. Murray Abraham and Rupert Everett back-to-back. One plays the role as an extension of the Law; the other plays it as an extension of the Church’s Ego.
The legacy of the The Name of the Rose cast is really a lesson in how to adapt a "unfilmable" book. You don't do it with CGI or flashy action. You do it by putting the right faces in the room and letting the shadows do the rest of the work. If you're a fan of historical dramas or medieval mysteries, comparing these two casts is basically a masterclass in character interpretation.
Next time you watch, look past Sean Connery. Look at the guy in the corner of the scriptorium with the weird nose. That’s where the real magic of this story lives.
To dig deeper into the world of Umberto Eco, your next step should be comparing the 1986 script's deviations from the original Latin passages in the book. This reveals how the cast had to simplify complex theological arguments into emotional beats for the screen. Also, look into the production diaries of Jean-Jacques Annaud; he details the grueling "monk boot camp" he put the actors through to ensure they didn't look like modern people in costumes.