The resulting piece offers a humanising look at the legendary
king, as he grapples with advancing age and the consequences of his poor
decisions in the past. While he may proclaim that ‘the past is another country’
it continues to haunt him and control his present.
Bramhall’s script skilfully blends Shakespeare’s original
text with backstories and dialogue of his own invention, allowing the audience
to have a deeper understanding of Lear’s relationship with his favourite
daughter, Cordelia. While vast portions of the text are cut, the play never
becomes confusing, and I’ve no doubt that any audience member unfamiliar with
the original text would be able to follow the narrative with ease
The intimate performance space at The Anthony Burgess
Foundation provided an apt setting for this stripped back take on the tragedy,
with the production’s minimalist staging serving as a perfect backdrop to
Lear’s confused state of mind. Lear frequently asked himself who and where he was,
even addressing the same questions to the audience at times. This brought the audience
closer to Lear as a character, particularly as the setting remained ambiguous to
the audience themselves, so we shared his confusion.
The other characters in the play maintained a showery presence
in the narrative, not just through the damage they have inflicted on Lear (and
the damage which he eventually admits to having done to them) but also through
the stage design. The looming tree at the back of the stage is entwined with
blank masks, representing the many characters whom Lear attempted to recall and
define as he brooded over the events which led to his current predicament.
Most poignant of all is the small figure of Cordelia, hanging by her neck from
the tree. This is a clever representation of what Lear dubs ‘a doll-like
reminder’ of his favourite daughter. The moment when Lear finally refers to his
daughter, confronting how his actions have led to her death, is the highlight
of the play.
Young’s powerful performance holds the audience’s attention,
and Lear is by turns petulant, arrogant, self-loathing and deeply needy, yet he
always retains some degree of sympathy even as the play refuses to gloss over
Lear’s intense flaws. Some of the more moving moments came as he struggled with
the simplest of tasks, such as gingerly lowering his infirm body into a chair,
or endlessly repeating the same dialogue over and over, unable to remember what
came next.
Not only is his
personal life slipping away from him, but we also witness his attempt to live
up to the position of King, a role for which he seems to have been ill-suited
even before he was ravaged by old age and poor health. Midway through the play,
Lear re-enacted the day he divided his kingdom among Regan and Goneril. He made several attempts to sound more like a king, repeating his opening lines from
the original text until he gave up and continued the scene. The irony being
that it is his actions in this scene, rather than his tone of voice, which are
his real failings as a leader, with his insecurity having left him incapable of
withstanding the weight of his crown
I was left at the conclusion thinking that
Lear’s identity crisis, while exacerbated by his dementia, is not just the
result of ageing but part of a life long failure to ever properly understand
himself or the people around him. The only responsive left for Lear is to
resolve face whatever comes next with as much bravery and dignity as he can
muster.
Reviewer - Richard Gorick
on - 18/7/18
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