The Madness of King Lear is essentially King Lear recast as a three-hander, taking place entirely in Lear and Cordelia’s prison cell and alternating between the present and meditations on the past, flashbacks recapping the events leading up to Lear’s exile. It is a study in madness to the extent that the ageing King’s mind begins to wander and that the actors playing Cordelia and the Fool (Kiruna Stamell and Emma Hawkins, respectively), taking on various roles as needed, seem sometimes to mock Lear with
their recollections and at other times are simply channelling the
story. It could be said that most of the play is internal dialogue
between Lear (Richard Davey) and himself as he comes to
terms with his predicament and reflects with dismay on the foolishness
that has left him a king without a kingdom – “Lear’s shadow”.
Where this production is somewhat lacking is in the relationship between Lear and Cordelia – important to any King Lear but especially so when most of the cast has been excised. Although Stamell plays Cordelia
with forcefulness and vigour, it’s difficult to imagine that the two
are really father and daughter; there doesn’t seem to be much
tenderness there. Perhaps this is a result of Stamell depicting other characters as well, so the reality of her Cordelia
becomes a little hazy. This is of course one of the dangers of this
kind of revisionist exercise, that in putting many characters in the
mouths of only two actors (Davey only ever plays Lear and his performance feels much more grounded as a result) the waters will be muddied.
In any event, frankly King Lear as written is probably complicated
enough for modern audiences to cope with without it being chopped up
and rearranged. And making the play a more abstract proposition means
moving away from the sort of straight-forward storytelling that is at
the heart of Shakespeare’s enduring popularity. Certainly such a
chance may prove worth taking – but a similar problem arises when it
comes to dramatising the concept of ‘madness’ itself. The risk is that
as the character loses his grip on reality, so the audience will begin
to lose its grip on a sense of the narrative, for all that this very
loosening of structure can be shocking and exhilarating. Simply put,
it’s pretty hard to pull off. In this instance, the effect is
intermittently successful.
Nevertheless, Davey is a striking Lear, and his
moments of emotional anguish are compelling. He lopes around the
stage, shaggy-headed and wearing an army greatcoat and slippers, a
cross between someone’s doddery old grandad and a general home from the
wars. Interesting also is the sheer physicality of Stamell and Hawkins’ approach – they fling themselves about with energy and comic panache, adding new layers of meaning to their words.
Occasionally the trio seems about to launch into another show altogether, with Lear’s
despondency lifting to be replaced by the attitude of a cynical
vaudeville performer – self-aware, weary, and somehow untouched by
events, almost in the manner of the MC in Cabaret or Thénardier in Les
Misérables. These moments are rather curious and it’s a pity the
characters then have to return to the progress of the play. After all,
most of the audience knows King Lear well, so there’s an inevitability
to proceedings, reminiscent of the predicament in Tom Stoppard’s
Rosencranz and Guildernstern Are Dead of characters longing to change
their fates – to have a life beyond the play, in effect.
Davey mentions in his program notes that he toyed with the idea of writing new dialogue for Cordelia and Lear
to address the question of what the two might have discussed through
those long hours in prison. It would have been fascinating to see what
such an experiment might have produced. As it is, the potential for
radical departures is palpable here, but such impulses are reined in
fairly swiftly. Why not go for it? Why not let go of the text when it
feels right, and take the characters somewhere else altogether? All in
all, this is a worthy enterprise, if not entirely satisfying, and a
unique night of theatre.
The Round Earth Company, in association with Atypical Theatre, presents The Madness of King Lear
Devised by Richard Davey, based on the play by William Shakespeare
Venue: Peacock Theatre Dates: November 29th to December 9th Times: Monday to Saturday 8.00pm; Sunday 3.00 pm Tickets: Adult $35 Concession $25 Student $20 Bookings: Theatre Royal and Centertainment
Short+Sweet Sydney 09: Week One
All-in-all, I must confess a creeping notion Short 'n' Sweet
might be riding its own wave a little too ambitiously. Is there a whiff
of veritable corporatisation about, in its quest... Read more
The Madness of King Lear is essentially King Lear recast as a three-hander, taking place entirely in Lear and Cordelia’s prison cell and alternating between the present and meditations on the past, flashbacks recapping the events leading up to Lear’s exile. It is a study in madness to the extent that the ageing King’s mind begins to wander and that the actors playing Cordelia and the Fool (Kiruna Stamell and Emma Hawkins, respectively), taking on various roles as needed, seem sometimes to mock Lear with
their recollections and at other times are simply channelling the
story. It could be said that most of the play is internal dialogue
between Lear (Richard Davey) and himself as he comes to
terms with his predicament and reflects with dismay on the foolishness
that has left him a king without a kingdom – “Lear’s shadow”. 
