The first of two Shakespeare plays to be staged at the Sheffield Crucible this autumn, Titas Halder’s production of King Lear boasts the must-see billing of Ian McDiarmid as the foolish fond old king. This is an intelligent, stark production, more cerebral than emotional, acted on a largely blank stage with just a round sunken pit in the centre, surrounded by earth. Nevertheless, it’s visually powerful, with an inventive and effective lighting design by Ryan Day, functional costumes by Richard Kent, and an eerie soundscape by Emma Laxton. Indeed, it’s remarkable what an atmosphere can be created by the right combination of smoke, light and pea shingle.
Despite its being five minutes short of three hours, the plot moves at a cracking pace, and the clarity of the storytelling is outstanding. The characterisations are, for the most part, strong and memorable, and the acting is superb. McDiarmid’s Lear is a sarcastic, entitled bighead, quick to ire, with a withering tone of voice that could make even the most virtuous of daughters flinch. When Cordelia refuses to play the adoration game (an assertive, no-nonsense performance from Bebe Sanders) this Lear isn’t merely disappointed and disapproving; he truly despises every inch of her being.
After being outwitted by a Goneril and Regan more power-hungry than he could have imagined, his descent into madness is structured, logical, and totally believable. His snide, mocking personality becomes pathetic and pitiful; but because he was such a difficult man when he had his wits about him, it’s hard to feel sorry for him. It’s much more of a study of how a fool can give away his power by trusting people who are not to be trusted. One’s sympathies are much more extended to Mark Holgate’s noble and faithful Kent, David Birrell’s easily duped Gloucester, and a truly upstanding Albany played by Milo Twomey.
Katie Wimpenny and Justina Kehinde are both exceptional as Goneril and Regan; in particular, Ms Kehinde’s unhinged glee at plucking out Gloucester’s eyes is a remarkable portrayal of the visceral pleasure by one ghoulish monster at the total domination of their victim. Both are keenly attracted to Fode Simbo’s Edmund, another intelligent, credible, and unsensational portrayal of a man who (as he sees it) is simply trying to get what he feels is rightly his – and not remotely concerned about who gets hurt in the process. There’s one more absolutely superb performance – Max Revell as the Fool, whose every move mimics and scorns Lear’s own movements, creating some extraordinary, contorted shapes in a remarkable physical performance.
Arresting from the start, this is a stunning, engrossing and totally lucid production, full of fine performances and intense atmosphere. You won’t shed a tear for Lear and Cordelia, but you will make the conscious decision never to give all to your daughters.
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