It’s been almost a decade since Australia’s last major stage adaptation of Shakespeare’s tragedy of mad monarchy, bad fathers, ambitious children and a world heading towards apocalypse.
In the intervening years, we’ve seen the rise and rise of star casting, as theater companies compete for our increasingly spare dollars by building productions around big names. Modern Lears have been produced on international stages, with Ian McKellen in ceremonial military dress and a retinue in fatigues; Contemporary Lears, with Glenda Jackson in civvies and Killing Eve’s Danny Sapani in slick politician attire; and even an ancient one, with Kenneth Branagh in animal skins.
In contrast, Bell Shakespeare reacts to the times we are in with a minimalist Lear with stripped back design and costumes, no contemporary resonance in the mind’s eye of the beholder. Where most recent Lear productions have an epic following, this one is deeply personal: told unchanged and in the finale in the tiny Neilson Nutshell theater in Pier 2/3. (In Melbourne, it will be shown in the Arts Centre’s slightly larger Fairfax Theatre). Instead of the now standard big screen star, Lear is played by Australian stage veteran Robert Menzies. As for costumes, the actors are mostly in theater blacks. The drama, this performance, seems to be the thing.
It’s an alluring concept. Lear is a play of big emotions, frustrated ambitions and family spats – and how better to bring these to bear on the audience than in an intimate, even claustrophobic, space? There is also an argument – as always, with Shakespeare – for letting the language do the heavy lifting.
Of course, Bell’s stage approach also presents inherent challenges – most notably, key scenes are performed with the actors facing only part of the audience.
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The production, directed by artistic director Peter Evans, doesn’t make the most of the opportunities – or overcome the challenges entirely. Among a large cast with varying levels of experience, the delivery is a mixed bag: while Shakespeare veterans such as Menzies and James Lugton (playing Gloucester) are like fish in water, and Shakespeare and Bell regulars such as Lizzie Schebesta (Goneril) and Janine Watson (Kent) knows what they are doing, other members of the cast sometimes struggle to find closure and inflection that makes sense of the lines. For Lear devotees, the effect may be negligible – but for those less familiar with the text, it presents frustrating obstacles.
Acoustic troubles added to this: sometimes lines were muddy and hard to hear, especially if an actor’s back was turned to you; in some scenes they competed with the sound design.
But even when the line delivery was clear and meaningful, great lines and scenes passed by, leaving few moments to feel their meaning. Relentless pacing and momentum make the play’s rapid-fire character transformations even harder to process – and undercut the deep emotion of key moments.
All of these issues may ease as production stabilizes in the long run, but there are more fundamental challenges. Lear’s greatest strength – his beating heart – is his resonant human tragedy: a man who was losing his identity and purpose, and then his mind; of alienated fathers from their children; of fatal misjudgments, misunderstandings and lost connections. If you are not drawing tears from the audience, why this drama?
It is more difficult to do this when the audience – even when they are close to the action on stage – cannot see the faces of the main characters. In the title role, Menzies gives a believably moving performance, presenting (as do many actors) a physicality consistent with dementia – shaking, drooling, wringing hands, stiffening out of posture and looking alternates between focus and empty. But when his back is turned to some of the audience at any given moment, it’s hard to feel the full effect of his performance, undermining the power of the crucial climactic scenes.
Anna Tregloan’s stage design is visually arresting (all bright gold and reflective brass) and conceptually elegant – setting the action between a void-like black disc on stage and a sculpture of the solar system above – without be obscene Combined with sound and lighting cues, it draws the audience’s attention to the play’s pagan and astronomical references – which is interesting, but doesn’t necessarily clarify the action or the characters.
Again, for members of the audience familiar with Lear, this is unlikely to detract from the experience – but for those coming across it for the first time, this design is a little too restrained, and gives the impression there is no clear line or thesis in this performance. Like any Shakespeare play, Lear is many things, but the most influential productions tend to hang their hats on particular threads: social violence, political machinations, family dynamics.
Those who bring their own expectations about Lear to the theater may be reinforced or confused. Those who meet him for the first time will find out what the play will be and what it can be. But this is not a production that keeps the promise of revelation.
• King Lear is on at Neilson Nutshell, Pier 2/3, in Sydney until 20 July, then Melbourne Arts Center 25 July – 11 August