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Theater review: King Lear
Mar. 4th, 2023 11:50 amLast night, I saw Patrick Page in King Lear at the STC, which was incredible. I knew the vague outlines of the plot going in (basically: daughters, betrayal, madness) but, after watching it play out, it kind of feels like the most Shakespearean play: you've got a scheming bastard son, a conspiracy to depose a king, exile, familial infighting. This specific staging even had cross-dressing— the Earl of Kent was played as a woman who disguises herself as a man when she returns from exile to aid Lear. (I was also reminded of the STC's notably gruesome production of Richard III, when this one went all in on the blinding of Gloucester.)
( More thoughts along those lines )
Patrick Page was, unsurprisingly, amazing. One review described his voice as "resonat[ing] like the bottom note on a keyboard" and yeah, it sure does— for his first few moments on stage, I largely failed to process what he was actually saying, I was too distracted by his voice. (If you've listened to the Hadestown OBC, you'll know.) He has such incredible stage presence, and I get why Lear is like, the role that every actor of a certain age and standing ends up playing at some point; it's a hell of a role. The actor who played Edmund was also fantastic, as a slick and shameless villain.
The characters that are going to live rent-free in my head, though, are Gloucester and Edgar. Early on, Gloucester's (legitimate) son Edgar is forced to flee after his (illegitimate) brother, Edmund, frames him as an attempted patricide, and disguises himself as a mad beggar. After Gloucester is blinded and exiled, he encounters Edgar without knowing him, and begs this kind apparent-stranger to help him to the cliffs of Dover so he can die there, at which point I just about lost it from the pure pathos of it all.
The other thing that really struck me was the idea of... complicity, I guess? (Another overlap with Richard III, among other plays.) One of the few specific details I knew going into this play was courtesy of C.S. Lewis:
The rebellion of the First Servant stands in parallel to two times that the noble conspirators promise their underlings fortune and favor if they engage in, as Lewis puts it, an abomination: 1. when Regan sends Goneril's steward to kill Gloucester ("That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh to raise my fortunes") and 2. when Edmund instructs a soldier to carry orders for the execution of Lear and Cordelia ("As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way to noble fortunes"). In example #1, the steward's response ("Would I could meet him, madam! I should show what party I do follow") had me wondering, for a moment, if he too had had enough and would stand against the conspirators - I thought I detected a hint of irony - but, nope.
( More thoughts along those lines )
Patrick Page was, unsurprisingly, amazing. One review described his voice as "resonat[ing] like the bottom note on a keyboard" and yeah, it sure does— for his first few moments on stage, I largely failed to process what he was actually saying, I was too distracted by his voice. (If you've listened to the Hadestown OBC, you'll know.) He has such incredible stage presence, and I get why Lear is like, the role that every actor of a certain age and standing ends up playing at some point; it's a hell of a role. The actor who played Edmund was also fantastic, as a slick and shameless villain.
The characters that are going to live rent-free in my head, though, are Gloucester and Edgar. Early on, Gloucester's (legitimate) son Edgar is forced to flee after his (illegitimate) brother, Edmund, frames him as an attempted patricide, and disguises himself as a mad beggar. After Gloucester is blinded and exiled, he encounters Edgar without knowing him, and begs this kind apparent-stranger to help him to the cliffs of Dover so he can die there, at which point I just about lost it from the pure pathos of it all.
The other thing that really struck me was the idea of... complicity, I guess? (Another overlap with Richard III, among other plays.) One of the few specific details I knew going into this play was courtesy of C.S. Lewis:
In King Lear (III:vii) there is a man who is such a minor character that Shakespeare has not given him even a name: he is merely "First Servant." All the characters around him—Regan, Cornwall, and Edmund—have fine long-term plans. They think they know how the story is going to end, and they are quite wrong. The servant has no such delusions. He has no notion how the play is going to go. But he understands the present scene. He sees an abomination (the blinding of old Gloucester) taking place. He will not stand it. His sword is out and pointed at his master's breast in a moment: then Regan stabs him dead from behind. That is his whole part: eight lines all told. But if it were real life and not a play, that is the part it would be best to have acted.
The rebellion of the First Servant stands in parallel to two times that the noble conspirators promise their underlings fortune and favor if they engage in, as Lewis puts it, an abomination: 1. when Regan sends Goneril's steward to kill Gloucester ("That eyeless head of thine was first framed flesh to raise my fortunes") and 2. when Edmund instructs a soldier to carry orders for the execution of Lear and Cordelia ("As this instructs thee, thou dost make thy way to noble fortunes"). In example #1, the steward's response ("Would I could meet him, madam! I should show what party I do follow") had me wondering, for a moment, if he too had had enough and would stand against the conspirators - I thought I detected a hint of irony - but, nope.
