Writer: William Shakespeare
Director: Kenneth Branagh
The inevitable has happened. Kenneth Branagh has given us his King Lear. And it’s a true gift. He’s wonderful as the King, playing with a tightly coiled energy that shimmers and bursts as he charts Lear’s moments of strength and his mental decline. Branagh as Lear is a performance that deserves the West End hype, and maybe even (whisper it) the ticket prices.
His big role is, of course, wrapped up in a full play with other people and ideas. Normally, this should all come as a package but here it feels like there’s a real competition for attention that interrupts the overall harmony of the piece.
With so much juicy inter-familial fighting, political wrangling and big plays for status and control, it should have everything you’d want in a play. This version, coming in at a rapid two hours long without an interval, makes leadership itself the nominal focus and how unsuited those who seek it are. We also see a square focus on how generations evolve to distance from the ones before, while retaining key characteristics, for better or worse.
As Lear seeks to retire as King he tries to split his kingdom and avoid the peril of powerful men – a succession crisis. Right from the start, we can question his judgement as he splits a powerful kingdom along the lines of momentary whim, endowing two fawning daughters with half the kingdom each and cutting out his third because she refused to play his ego-driven games. As expected, this method of handing over power does not go well. Lear’s enfranchised daughters and sons-in-law rebel against his wishes, disrespecting him and creating conflict. In despair and frustration, Lear’s mind breaks. Amid much destruction and death, a new generation rises to hopefully do better than the selfish, misguided one that has been corrupted by so much power.
The play’s called King Lear for a reason, everything revolves around his actions and decisions. Such is the draw of Branagh’s gravity, those performing in his orbit struggle to be independent characters. We seem to pass through many of the other rich elements in the story – the politicised adultery, the tumultuous power struggles, the violence and betrayals – too swiftly just to get to the next appearance of Lear. While this is partly down to the production itself and the quick way some of this material is dealt with (fortunes change in the blink of an eye, war replaces peace with startling escalation) there’s also an element of the performers themselves not standing up to their roles. With the exception of the warlike and strident Cornwall (Hughie O’Donnell) and statesmanlike Gloucester (Joseph Kloska), the middle generation of Goneril, Regan, Kent and Albany struggle to attract attention or grip us with their stories.
Corey Mylchreest as the ambitious, ruthless Edmund son of Gloucester, comes closest to being a balance for Branagh, sweeping about fully invested with Edmund’s sense of ownership and confidence. As his brother Edgar, Doug Colling also turns in a fine performance, showing huge versatility as he turns from fear to madness to gritty determination.
We’re overlooked by Jon Bausor’s slightly shaky set made of shifting stone slabs (think Stonehenge) and a massive, over-dominant section of globe as a roof. It’s eye-catching and markedly impactful in this smallish stage. It also does well as a versatile canvas to show weather, atmosphere and the stars, coming into its own in the storm scenes with a raving King. But for this moment of spectacle, it otherwise spends the time glowering at us and compressing the space.
The slabs, costumes and weapons (sticks, basically) all point to the prehistoric Britain that Lear supposedly ruled over. Broadly it works nicely and makes for some fine choreography and much clashing of sticks in some excellent fight scenes. What we’re supposed to derive as meaning from the setting is less clear. Lear is supposedly an Iron Age ruler, with a medieval court structure and scenery from the Bronze Age.
When the run ends, Branagh the performer can rightly claim his Lear to be among his finest roles. He is captivating, at times entrancing.
Runs until 9 December 2023
