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by William Shakespeare, directed by Jonathan Miller

Stratford Festival, Festival Theatre, Stratford

August 24-November 6, 2002

"Technique over Passion"

"King Lear" now playing at Stratford is notable for two reasons.  First, and probably foremost in most minds, Christopher Plummer appears in a Shakespearean role at the Festival for the first time since 1967.  Second, and to my mind more important, the show marks the first time since Tyrone Guthrie that a director of international renown, Sir Jonathan Miller, has directed a play there.  These are reasons enough to see the production even if the result falls short of true excellence.

"Lear" can be one of Shakespeare's most harrowing tragedies.  It certainly was in Robin Phillips's production with William Hutt in 1988.  Here one watches with little emotional involvement.  There are several reasons for this.  First, several crucial roles have been assigned to actors not up to the task.  Plummer himself has decided to make Lear's madness comic rather than pitiable or frightening.  And Miller, too, emphasizes the comedy in the play, though in a highly controlled fashion, well after the storm scene that dissipates the claustrophobia of the indoor scenes and the terror of the outdoor scenes. 

Plummer has been resting on his laurels as "great Shakespearean actor" for several decades with only trifles like the film "Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan" (1982) or the insightless play "Barrymore" (1996) as fragmentary reminders of his past ability.  This "Lear" proves he still can do it.  His stage presence is undeniable and he speaks Shakespeare's verse with absolute clarity.  But it struck me throughout that Plummer seemed to regard the role as a means of virtuosic display without really engaging with the character.  There is much to admire in someone so in command of a wide range of expression, but that alone does not draw us into the work.  His wrath and fear of descending into madness are well portrayed, but where his interpretation seriously goes awry in the important meeting with the blinded Gloucester in Act 4.  Though Edgar repeated states what a pitiful sight it is to behold, Plummer's Lear delivers all of his "mad" speeches to the audience as if he were a seedier version of Barrymore.  He thus comes off as merely crotchety and eccentric instead of mad.

One reason Shakespeare productions have become stale at Stratford is an overreliance on a small cadre of in-house directors who don't challenge the actors or the audience.  Under Miller the whole company seems to shine like new, almost everyone eschewing old habits and speaking the text with such understanding that line after line glossed over in previous productions makes sense.  Those already known as fine actors seem energized and surpass themselves in truly excellent performances.

James Blendick as Gloucester finally has the chance to show his true range and depth in a performance both daring and moving.  His scenes after Gloucester's blinding culminating in the suicide attempt at Dover are the most affecting in the production.  Barry MacGregor, face painted as a commedia figure, deep sadness in his eyes, plays Lear's Fool as an adult with the mental age of a boy who cannot do otherwise than speak the truth (a perfect parallel to Cordelia).  He is Lear's externalized conscience and guide.  For once the scene when Goneril chases him away is not cut.  Benedict Campbell casts aside the bluster and excess that has marred many of his performances in major roles, and brings a keen intelligence to the Earl of Kent, who is so much like the audience's representative within the play, hoping to save Lear but only witnessing horror.  Stephen Russell has played the violent Duke of Cornwall before, but here he brings a new fierceness to the role.  Brian Tree succeeds in making even the often-ignored Oswald (Goneril's steward) a memorable role.  With the part intact, I realized for the first time his parallel with Edmund.

Domini Blythe as Goneril and Lucy Peacock as Regan both reveal sides of themselves they have seldom shown at Stratford.  They clearly distinguish the evil sisters.  While Blythe is cold and calculating , Peacock, revelling in the chance finally to play an evil character, makes Regan less intelligent but more undisguisedly greedy than her sister.  They both give very finely detailed accounts of their characters' slide into the abyss.

It is sad to see that Stratford with its vast resources is unable to muster actors equal to these to fill out the remaining key roles.  Maurice Godin, who last acted at Stratford in 1986, plays the villain Edmund as if he were a Restoration dandy.  I've never seen Edmund's nasty lines garner such hearty laughter before.  Playing Edmund as a wit is certainly different (it links the role to Richard III)  but Godin is so easy-going he suggests no intensity of hatred much less of evil.  The Gloucester subplot is further undermined by Evan Buliung as the good son Edgar, who alone among the cast has unclear diction clouding his important lines.  Ian Deakin as the Duke of Albany is very good at showing how good can appear weak when faced with evil in the person of his wife Goneril, but  he never invests Albany with the strength and authority he should have to stand up to her and the corruption around him.  Sarah McVie's Cordelia always speaks with an emphatic moral purpose but little sense of inner conflict or emotion.                          

 

The play is presented on a completely unadorned stage.  There are only five pieces of furniture used and few props.  For once the play is set in a period with some relevance to the action.  British designer Clare Mitchell has accoutred the cast in the florid style of the Cavalier period, with large lace collars for everyone and elaborate hairstyles for the women.  Not only does this pick up Lear's line "If only to go warm were gorgeous", it reminds us of the first time in British history when the populace dethroned and executed a king, Charles I.  Robert Thomson's lighting is seldom in keeping with the play's moods.  The scenes on the heath are suitably dark with a wonderful scene lit only by an on-stage lantern when Gloucester helps Lear find shelter.  But Acts 1-2 and 4-5 are too analytically lit throughout to suggest any air of menace or mourning. 

Miller has given the play great fluidity by overlapping exits and entrances.  This speeds the action but is done so deliberately it also serves as a kind of alienation device reminding us of the play's own artifice.  Miller's strategy in playing so many of the line for full-out humour is meant to coddle us along until we wake up to the horror or distress of those who have been amusing us.  Perhaps if Plummer had emphasized emotion as well as technique and if the weaker actors had been stronger this might have worked since Miller rigorously controls when we do or don't have a comic response.  Ultimately, we tend to admire his and Plummer's precision without being moved by the result.

©Christopher Hoile

Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.

Photo: Christopher Plummer and Barry McGregor at the Vivian Beaumont Theatre, New York. ©2002 Joan Marcus.