The stage set is bare – save for a portable 3D globe.
The lighting is suitably foreboding.
The rich orchestral score is smoothly augmented by two live violinists.
’King Lear’ (Danny Sapani) enters; his silhouetted back turned to the audience as he disrobes, before allowing himself to be re-costumed by his three – ostensibly dutiful – daughters.The stage is then re-set for the king to announce that he is to bequeath his kingdom to his daughters; each child’s share being dependent on how their loving pronouncements affect him.
The eldest ‘Regan’ (Faith Omole) is first to deliver her declaration; followed by ‘Goneril’ (Akiya Henry), who attempts to raise the ante with her flowery – yet emotionally vapid – outpouring. Finally, his youngest daughter ‘Cordelia’ (Gloria Obianyo) has the chance to cement her place in her father’s heart – and to guarantee the ‘keys to the kingdom’.
When asked what she has to add to the honeyed words being spoken into her father’s ears, she replies, simply… “Nothing”.She seems to believe that her love for her father is, not only self-evident, but is also immeasurable – impossible to compare with that of her sister’s. Lear – affronted by his favourite daughter’s apparent lack of devotion towards him – scolds and banishes her (“Nothing comes from nothing”), instantly regrets it, goes mad, witnesses his kingdom being usurped by liars, thieves and traitors and finally comes to his senses; alas, not before his life, legacy and all that he holds dear is lost.
We get to understand that what invariably replaces ‘nothing’ is – in fact – chaos. Alas, if anything is, for too long left unattended, we must expect ‘something’ – often evil – that way comes.
Even though the story is vast in scope and universal in theme, this production still feels just as familial as it does parochial; as personal as it is tribal. Two of the ways it draws us in is by using the stalls and auditorium as an extension of the stage, and through its constant – often humorous – breaking of the ‘fourth wall’ (“Take off my boot!”).
Another way this is reinforced is through the early piano-led introduction to – what sounds like – a well-known popular song; the singularly-voiced melodic strands leaving us hanging, as the song’s denouement is held tantalisingly out of reach.
Each essential element of the production supports and enhances the whole. Costume Designer Camilla Dely creations are at once regal and pristine, yet functional and practical; threadbare, yet extravagant and ostentatious. Sophia Khan’s wig/hair/make-up combinations also deserve mention, for the conveyance of both elegance and squalor, in equal measure. Merle Hensel’s Set design is minimal, yet seemingly vast once combined with Peter Rice’s exquisite Sound and Lee Curran’s multifaceted Lighting Design.
Composer Max Perryment’s wonderful score brings the proceedings to life, as much as it builds and enlivens the atmosphere – deftly utilising elements of live piano, violin and voice in support.
Finally Kate Waters’ hard-hitting fight scenes marry perfectly with Imogen Knight’s unfussy Movement.
Yet it is to the performances that we look to most for magic – they do not disappoint.
Omole, Henry and Obianyo are all superb as the three sisters; each one seemingly conveying the correct mixture of aloofness, naiveté, jealousy, devotion, desperation and cunning. Their fierce and feminine physicality, verbal articulation and fine singing (especially Obianyo) are a joy to the eyes and the ears.
Alec Newman is excellent as the loyal ‘Kent’, while both Michael Gould and Matthew Tennyson unravel deliciously as (father and son) ‘Gloucester’ and ‘Edgar’.
Clarke Peters is both haunting and hilarious as ‘Fool’ – the king’s outward manifestation of madness. His incredible voice is soothing, accusing, enquiring and demanding in equal measure; a balm and a charm in the midst of harm. His is also a quietly commanding physical presence – despite his ethereal form within the play.
And lastly… to Danny Sapani as ‘Lear’. His voice has tremendous authority, yet is weathered; his movement is cultured, yet halting; his physicality is commanding, yet hesitant. It’s as if he’s suddenly become aware of his mortality. His madness feels like a long, well-calibrated ‘song of regret’; as if he realises the world that he has bequeathed his daughters is beset with evil – wickedness he has neither eradicated, nor sufficiently prepared them for. His is a powerful ‘Lear’ – not least because it conveys the regret of a powerful patriarch adrift in a world passing him by – just as he is increasingly cut off from the loved ones he must soon leave. It is a masterfully intimate, affecting and – dare I say it – modern performance.
This play – as with so much of Shakespeare’s work – is timeless, timely and starkly prescient.
A ‘kingdom’ becomes self-satisfied – complacent, even; abdicates its position to the capriciousness of fate, ‘manifest destiny’, and the wills and wiles of its unattended subjects.
It could very well be sub-titled ‘How The West was undone’.
As the final tableau morphs into silhouette, two violins augment the score, and the cast’s lovely voices graduate from smooth unison to glorious harmony; revealing the title – and underlying message – of the song-fragment essayed earlier [hint: Bob Dylan]. The 3D globe ignites into flame – fade to black.
Kudos to Master Shakespeare, for having written yet another story that endures for our time.
For here we are – yet again – reminded of just how much those ancient, dramatic conceits still mirror our own ‘more modern’ concerns.
Finally, kudos to director Yaël Farber, and all within the fabulous cast and creatives responsible for this fantastic show.
Need to know: King Lear plays at Almeida Theatre until 30 March 2024
