King Lear – Shakespeare’s Globe, London

Writer: William Shakespeare

Director: Helena Kaut-Howson

King Lear is not a play you can attend without having first done a little homework. At least read a detailed synopsis or you will find yourself frustratingly entangled from the start.

Subplots abound, as do characters in disguise and actors playing multiple roles with minor disguises. It is far from a simple story, and three hours and twenty minutes is a long time if you’re not quite following. That said, it’s arguably one of Shakespeare’s best, and the Globe’s production has done it a great justice, so it’s worth the prep. There are no particular risks, nor bold decisions, nonetheless the casting is perfect, the music suitably dramatic and the location breath-taking as always.

Lear is dividing his kingdom between his three daughters and requires they win their piece by stating how much they love him. Two daughters, differing only in measures of sycophantism and duplicity, gush at the demand and both win a slice of the kingdom. But, out of sincere love for Lear, earnest Cordelia cannot compete, seeing that her father is not himself. So she gets nothing and is banished. Thus begins a very messy demise for Lear, and a bloody battle for power for everyone else.

Kathryn Hunter’s Lear is utterly heart-breaking, in both his impotent rage and his creeping dementia. She has become a withering old man, grasping at his long-ceded power, and it seems impossible that an actor should hide behind that silvery mane, or that she could play any other character. It’s often hard to see why anyone should love such a tempestuous egotist, but Hunter reveals a surprising charm and congeniality in his weaker moments.

Michelle Terry’s Fool is hardly a fool at all, and she convincingly navigates the rather advice-heavy dialogue, guising it, for the sake of Lear’s ego, as sarcastic folly. But Hunter is the star, and Terry gives her plenty of room to shine, rather than attempting to compete. The rest of the cast is similarly generous, showing its best work by mining humour in what is generally considered to be a very serious play.

The programme informs its audience that the play is set “in a decaying modern society. The world we live in now.” This is not at all apparent, and besides some rusting scaffolding, it appears much like every other Shakespeare production, set in a time long ago that never quite existed. That being said, Ann Ogbomo’s wardrobe of long military gowns, sharp, embellished suits, and floor-skimming fur coats, is the only obvious nod to the design’s intent, and it’s fabulous. More of that perhaps?

Similarly, the terrible storm, which should be a huge change in atmosphere, is expressed only in clattering drums, and actors intermittently appearing to walk against the wind. Designer Pawel Dobyzycki has done the performers justice by stripping it back and allowing them to lead, but he’s gone a little too far, leaving the audience’s imaginations to work overtime.

The ongoing argument over mic-ing the Globe abides: Despite every performer making efforts to project, the round auditorium makes it impossible not to have your back to someone, at which point, it’s often very difficult to hear what they’re saying. That being said, microphones, even the most subtle, would likely take away from the venue’s inimitable romance, and so one must be satisfied with missing some of the dialogue, in exchange for an extraordinary experience.

Runs until 24 July 2022