★★★☆☆
The Creation Theatre’s decision to stage a 5-man production of King Lear, a play deeply concerned with the complexity of individual characters, was always going to be ambitious. The family tree of the characters printed in the programme, outlining their relationships, was a warning sign: the characterization, with each actor playing multiple parts, would inevitably make it difficult to keep track.
Whilst the portrayal of Cordelia and the Fool by the same actor is a nice nod to original Jacobean productions (The two characters famously never appear on stage at once, so were often played by the same actor), the effect falls short with Goneril and Reagan both being played by Natasha Rickman. The two sisters are often confused, and their similar portrayal by the same actress further denies them differentiation and individuality. Once the actor playing Burgundy walked on in a burgundy cap and scarf in a desperate attempt to convey his character change, I started to question the directorial decision of tackling so many roles at once. Nonetheless, the multiplicity of characters played by each actor does add a pleasing meta-theatrical twist. Lines such as ‘You know the character to be your brother’s’ and ‘I do profess to be no less than I seem’ take on yet another layer of meaning, referring not only to the deceit and counterfeit within the script but the confusion arising from trying to portray so many characters at once.
Similarly, the effect at the end of the play is striking. When Albany says ‘produce their bodies, be they alive or dead’ and just Goneril and Regan’s clothes, rather than bodies, can be brought on, the play’s focus on how far our identity lies in our material trappings is emphasised: as Lear himself says ‘Through tattered clothes great vices do appear, / Robes and furred gowns hide all.’
However, despite confusion produced by multiple characters being played by one actor, the quality of the performances is largely superb. Lucy Pearson takes on the ambitious task of portraying Cordelia, Edgar and the Fool and carries it off with energy and dynamism. However, the impact of her multiple roles is evident: in her first appearance as Edgar, the liveliness and eccentricity from her depiction of the Fool are carried over, sadly trivializing many of Edgar’s most important moments, including the poignant cliff-scene with Gloucester. However, as she settles into the role she sheds her ‘foolishness’, and masterfully navigates both the characters of Edgar and Poor Tom. Max Gold makes a fantastic Lear; the intensification of his madness is accurately conveyed through subtle yet noticeable fluctuations between rage and a delight in his own confusion.
Staging decisions are variable: the set remain the same throughout, with blue light, a barren tree and piles of books. In the storm scene, the actors make lightning noises by slamming books onto the stage – whilst it is clearly suggestive of the play’s theme of the destructive power of the written word, the allusion seems a little neat and overstated, especially when the actors start flapping books in Lear’s face to evoke the raging wind.
At points the production seems somewhat genre-confused: it is not a modern adaptation, nor a comedy, but flashes of modernity and comedy appear sporadically. During the love-test scene, which in the script takes place within the privacy of Lear’s palace, Goneril and Regan’s sycophantic addresses to Lear are greeted with paparazzi and cheering crowds, making for an almost Hunger Games-esque depiction of the division of the kingdom. Whilst the use of hip hop music to convey Lear’s rowdy retinue of knights is amusing, it seems somewhat misplaced. Although there are genuinely comedic moments in King Lear, particularly those evoking proto-Beckettian tragicomedy and absurdism, these are passed over, and instead comedy is injected into somewhat random areas of the script. Overall, the brilliant performances seem to go to waste, held back considerably by questionable casting and directorial decisions.
