Review: Shakespeare's Globe, King Lear

Wild and lost, here is where they find themselves: stumbling up and on to the stage of an abandoned theatre...

When I heard that Shakespeare's Globe were getting in on the latest trend of theatre-to-cinema broadcasting, I was thrilled, and determined to see it. In this way, I could experience a top-class Shakespeare production without making the arduous trip down to London. Especially exciting was that the production was King Lear, one of my favourite plays. Here's my thoughts. 

One man. Three daughters. But also: another man and his two sons. King Lear is Shakespeare's great tragedy of family, betrayal, forgiveness, and mending. I could write about the play for hours, but I will refrain - it is the Globe's 2017 production, not the play itself, that I wish to write about. 

Set: An Abandoned Theatre

I must admit, I was confused at first by the white tarpaulin that was wrapped around the Globe's great pillars, and the way in which the backdrop of the stage was boarded up with spray-painted 'No Entry' signs. But then the players, who stumbled on to the stage like a troupe of vagrants, begin to tear at these trappings, until a glimpse of the beautiful theatre beneath could be seen. This glimpse acted as a spark, inspiring these unfortunate souls to put on a play - piecing out their own troubles through theatrical display.

Throughout the play, more and more pieces of this tarpaulin get taken down. Some is torn away in scene changes. Some gets blown away by the storm. When the play is over, and the players take their bow, Lear (Kevin R McNally) tugs away the final scrap to reveal the last of the two ornate pillars (to great applause). In an interview aired during the interval, McNally revealed another meaning behind these ugly trappings. In a way, it acts as a metaphor for King Lear himself: he begins the play ugly, false, and blinded by outward shows; but over the course of his journey this exterior is stripped away, slowly revealing a more beautiful soul underneath.

Moving on from the set: a few words about props and choreography, and then I'll finish with a notable scene and a notable performance (or in this case, two). 

Props: Using What's There
In keeping with the idea that these players have stumbled upon an abandoned theatre, the main prop used throughout the play, for multiple purposes, is a steel supermarket stock trolley. It acts as the horse upon which Lear rides from kingdom to kingdom; it cages Gloucester in with Regan and Cornwall for the eye-plucking scene; it creates an intimate space for Edmund and the sisters during their respective broom-cupboard bedroom scenes; and it acts as an aid to transport the 'dead bodies' off the stage. A nice touch.

Another interesting choice with choreography was in having a few of the other players sitting in the background during scenes in which they were not involved. They watch from the shadows, perched on stepladders, suitcases and crates. I've seen this done in other productions, most notably the RSC's 2015 The Merchant of Venice, and I like the effect it creates. There's something intimate and rehearsal-like about it - it gives a sense of a collaborative story being told, a story being shaped and cultivated afresh each night.

Notable Scene: Blow, Winds
Picking the most poignantly performed scene in King Lear will always be a challenge, but for me, the most notable scene in this production was the storm scene (or Act 3, Scenes 1+2). Though the rain held off for the performance on 21 September (I imagine poor weather only adds to the atmosphere during this scene), a very effective storm was created through music and lighting. The ever-present players returned to the stage carrying drums to create a chaotic and oppressive rumbling of thunder; the floodlights rigged around the Globe's 'O' burst into white light in-sequence, giving the effect of lightning shocking around this intimate space. 

McNally's delivery of Lear's bold and brazen speech was superb. So often does this speech descend into mere shouting (through an actor's failed attempt to portray a maddened fearlessness, or through their fighting with an over-zealous special effects team, it's sometimes unclear). The Fool (portrayed by the excellent Loren O'Dair) clung to Lear's leg in one of the few outward shows of affection this Fool gives. The tarpaulin provided another use, in acting as the roof of Poor Tom's hovel, allowing the actors to escape the storm through the Globe's trapdoor.

Notable Performance 1: Edgar, I Nothing Am
The first notable performance I wish to detail is that of Joshua James, in the role of Edgar (and later, Poor Tom). For me, Edgar's transition into Poor Tom (and his other personas, though that's an analysis for another time) is one of the most fascinating things about this play. In a world where it is so pitiful to be human, that to become a piece of the very earth itself is a means of freedom and escape, is a curious concept. That Edgar, a nobleman, can fashion himself into such a wretched figure as Tom (or has he carried Tom, with his whole backstory, body language, and beliefs, with him all of his life?), is even curiouser. His language - part prose, part verse, part song, part nonsense - is intriguing, even spellbinding: this is one of the reasons I played with this text so much in my own manuscript.

I have seen Joshua James at the Globe before, as Ferdinand in the 2013 The Tempest. He was good then, but here, he excels. His Edgar is ditsy and dog-loyal, too used to the comforts of a nobleman's life and struck terrified by the notion of carrying a sword. His decision to become a bedlam beggar is clearly a fraught one, a desperate attempt to be free his persecution by blending in with the countless persecuted. It is remarkable to see him twist and gnarl himself into Poor Tom, and then to return as Edgar, misshapen, but cleansed. His is the only character to really interact with the groundlings during the performance, and James, a Globe regular, handles it with ease. Fantastic to see Poor Tom played so well.

Notable Performance 2: An All-Licensed Fool 
As mentioned earlier, O'Dair's Fool was brilliant. It was so refreshing to see a woman in the role (although she played the part rather androgynously, with a baggy jumpsuit and a cap covering her hair, which she shook out in her last moment on stage). The Fool's pining after Cordelia was believable, as if they had once been childhood friends; the character's brazen accusations of Lear were given a woman's bitterness instead of a man's bawdiness, a move which even left the audience audibly wincing at their sting.

O'Dair also provides musical accompaniment - she plays both a violin and an accordion throughout the production. The effect is to make the Fool a skilled (and therefore sane), but also a broken, failing character. Her music does not comfort Lear any more, and her tunes have become hollow and haunting. Such haunting melodies are perfect for such a bleak, stark play - have a listen to the trailer below to see what I mean. The only thing missing from the Fool's performance was the character's final prophesy, which I was sad to see cut. Nevertheless, O'Dair wraps up the Fool's part with one simple, defiant move - smudging her black teadrop make-up, and leaving her red nose on the stage behind her.

And here, I think, I shall end my review of the 2017 Shakespeare's Globe production of King Lear. The show runs until 14 October, and I urge you to see it if you can. The photos used in this post are all from the Globe website, or are stills from the trailer above.