262. KING LEAR
That grizzled old monarch, King Lear, who foolishly gave
his kingdom to his two unloving daughters and disinherited the one that truly
loved him is back in downtown Brooklyn, right across the street from where he
visited us earlier in the winter (it may now be spring, but it still feels like
winter). In January he took the form of a tall, hulking, force of nature, in
the person of 75-year-old American superstar Frank Langella; now he’s been
incarnated as the slighter, and a bit younger (70) Michael Pennington, not a
superstar, perhaps, but still one of England’s most highly respected classical
actors. Brooklyn is proud to be the showcase for his first Lear, even before he ever attempts it in England.
Michael Pennington, Rachel Pickup. Photo: Carol Rosegg.
The talented Arin Arbus directs Mr.
Pennington in this latest revival of KING LEAR, with a supporting cast of
mostly American actors (a few Brits are present as well), practically all of
whom speak Shakespeare’s lines with English accents. Although Mr. Langella’s
production avoided elaborate sets, it was like the Ziegfeld Follies compared to
Mr. Pennington’s stripped- down edition, with designer Riccardo Hernandez
providing only an occasional chair or small table for furniture, so that the
action can be totally focused on the actors. Of course, there’s a heavy
reliance on strikingly atmospheric lighting (Marcus Doshi), dynamic sound (Nicholas
Pope and Michaël Attias), and haunting music (Mr. Attias), but, unlike the Langella
version, there’s no actual deluge during the storm scene. The set is little
more than a rectangular floor suggesting tarnished metal, with a similarly
tarnished and unadorned upstage wall that leans forward as the play progresses,
and, like the bridge of a moat, is gradually let all the way down at the end, revealing a scarily lit, box-like room
inside.
Ms. Arbus’s production goes light on cleverness for its own sake and there's very little that is
interpretively unusual. Susan Hilferty’s costumes are in the familiar mode of
early 20th-century militarism, even those worn by Regan and Goneril, and all are in earth
tones of brown, rust, black, and green. One novel touch, although possibly seen in some other production, is
introduced when Oswald (Mark H. Dold) and Goneril (Rachel Pickup) enter while tidying
up their clothes after some presumed offstage hanky panky, suggesting that Goneril’s
steward is also her lover. The characterizations of all the leads, including
Kent (Timothy D. Stickney), Gloucester (Christopher McCann), Edmund (Chandler
Williams), Regan (Bianca Amato), Cordelia (Lilly Englert), Edgar (Jacob
Fishel), and the Fool (Jake Horowitz) aren’t notably different from those in
most standard productions; most (I take exception to the Fool, probably a hopeless role, at any rate) are well acted and intelligently spoken, which
is about as much as you can hope for in any revival of the play.
Jacob Fishel, Michael Pennington. Photo: Carol Rosegg.
Mr. Pennington’s Lear is more
down to earth and recognizably human than Mr. Langella’s, which had a more
grandiose and theatrical flair. His opening scene, when he divides his kingdom,
using a small map on a narrow tabletop, is brisk and businesslike, and his reaction
to Cordelia’s behavior makes him so convincingly disappointed that we wonder
why, in all this man’s life, he never before had occasion to notice his daughter’s
independent spirit and refusal to kowtow to his power. Shakespeare has created
this problem for Lear, and making his response seem plausible is probably an insurmountable
task for any actor; Mr. Pennington comes close to making us feel that, perhaps,
he’ll come around and see the light. His long scene with Goneril and Regan
about how many men they’ll allow him to keep excellently conveys his frustration
and disgruntlement. At the end of the play, reduced to a shell of the man he
once was, Mr. Pennington touches all the right buttons of pathos and grief.
This is a commendable, well spoken,
effectively staged KING LEAR. It is in no way groundbreaking or unusual, but
can easily be recommended to those who’ve never seen the play. Seeing it in the
intimate three-quarters round environment of the TFNA gives it an immediacy
that enhances its power. It would now be nice to give this play a rest, but, as the gods would have it, John Lithgow is gearing up to do it this summer in Central Park. It's enough to make you leery of yet another KING LEAR.
