Kenneth Branagh returns to the West End with a visually enticing take on Shakespeare’s tragical masterpiece. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this latest take on the mad king is actually right royal.
The Spaniards have a saying to warn about a child’s blaring ingratitude: raise a crow, and it will gouge your eyes out. It seems appropriate not only for a play where pretense love (and the narcissism of him who demands it) is the weaponizing tool of its narrative, but also for a piece going back, to some degree, to its author’s gore-thirsty roots. The tragedy of King Lear has been revived (and revised) in so many ways it’s fairly impossible to break too much ground when it comes to a new montage. But that doesn’t seem to pose any deterrent to Branagh’s cinematic-inspired approach on the Bard’s family-treason epic. It shouldn’t have either.
His return to the West End stage has been accompanied by a breeze of fresh air as for the visual understanding of a Shakespeare work. His obvious fondness for imaged grandeur (a tendency we’ve been coping with in his overdone film remakes of Agatha Christie classics) has, for the first time in years, become the highlight and major strength of his latest adaptation of the ill-fated English monarch. Visibly imposing due to its staggeringly realistic (yet also evocative) set and lighting and the emotional enhancement of its staging, the production comes as nothing short of breathtaking – taking us on a beheld roller coaster where word and picture blend in blazing unison.
Presenting us with a much younger Lear in comparison to the traditional depiction, the initial purist disbelief is evenly washed out through Brannagh’s almost impeccable performance – giving so much meaning, passion and eloquence to his delivery, both character’s wrath and sorrow come as tidal wave of electricity inundating the theatre’s whole atmosphere. Sadly enough, such transcendence has not been passed to his offspring, as none of the portrayals of Lear’s daughters (though capable and committed) manage to go any way beyond reciting – noticeably, trying to give substance and veracity to the material, but wistfully struggling to endow it with the piercing realism it so desperately needs.
A similar problem comes through Corey Mylchreest’s rendition of Edmund. Though generally well-timed and evidently dedicated, the subtle threat and insidiousness the role is supposed to emanate is still to be found – on too many occasions, unable to draw out the hatefulness and, all in all, evil nature serving as the story’s driving pivot. However, Brannagh’s interpretation is not the only one worthy of praise, as both Doug Collin and Joseph Kloska (in the son-father tandem of Edgar and Gloucester) provide another high point through their blunt, natural and sometimes moving interpretations. In addition, Hughie O’Donnell’s depiction of Cornwall, carrying out a frightfully shady, menacing depiction of the perfidious villain.
Blessed with a heart and a soul shattering through the shrill cracks of its recount, Kenneth Branagh’s King Lear triumphantly brings closeness and intimacy to the original piece – granting it a more personal touch, where sentiments and philosophy mix together to bring out the turmoil stemming from the play’s glimmering bleakness. Narrated through visual perfection and featuring a few intoxicating performances, the production has landed as a definite must-watch for those seeking both form and viscerality in a major classic – enriched with sufficient originality while being respectful to the initial material. We that are young shall never see so much, nor live so long. But this one comes as an exception.
All pictures credit to Johan Persson.
King Lear plays at London’s Wyndham’s Theatre until 2 December. Tickets are available on the following link.