And Here's The King In His Castle Theatre






By John Gross
The Arts
Sunday Telegraph
April 16, 2000



Richard II


There are times when the set and the setting of the Almeida Company's new production of Richard II come close to dominating the action. The Almeida has borrowed the old Gainsborough film studio for the occasion; it is a vast barn of a building, and the director, Jonathan Kent, and his designer, Paul Brown, have taken full advantage of its heroic possibilities.


The stage is a greensward (real grass) with trees at the side, a fit emblem of England's green and troubled land. A brick wall rears up behind, with apertures that allow (with the help of Mark Henderson's lighting) for some majestic roi soleil effects - especially in the Flint Castle scene, where Richard addresses his enemies from a great height.


Most striking of all, there is a widening fissure, which runs through the wall from top to bottom: a symbol not only of a divided commonwealth, but of the act of usurpation itself - of men engaged, as Richard tells them, in "cracking the strong warrant of an oath".


For however inevitable his deposing by Bolingbroke comes to seem, we are still meant to feel that it is a tremendous thing, a violation of the natural order. And in the early scenes Ralph Fiennes leaves us in no doubt that he has a full sense of what is due to him as a king. He was not born to sue, but to command - and he won't let us forget it.


At the same time we are spared none of the weaknesses. The Richard whom Fiennes gives us is spoiled, petulant, capricious, disdainful, often mean. He has the arrogance of a man who deep down doesn't greatly respect himself. His most settled expression is one of constipated discontent.


Some of this is demanded by the text; none of it is positively incompatible. Yet I can't help feeling that it is overdone. A Richard who is so consistently unpleasant at the outset leaves us ill-prepared for the tragic figure of the later scenes; and indeed, the big transitional speech - "For God's sake let us sit upon the ground" - isn't as effective as it might be.

But after that, Fiennes finds the requisite depth.

He is admirable in the deposition scene, half living through his tragedy, half stage-managing it; and in his final soliloquy, in the darkness of Pomfret Castle, he achieves a full and poignant humanity. What began as an accomplished but calculated performance ends as a memorable one.


Elsewhere the production is intelligent and straightforward, but somewhat lacking in dynamism: there is insufficient sense, despite the setting, that the future of the whole realm is at stake.


This is partly because that normally excellent actor Linus Roache gives a curiously flat performance as Bolingbroke: perhaps he is aiming at a tough impassivity, but in the event we get to feel little of the upward thrust of Bolingbroke's career. Some of the lesser performances are disappointing, too; the weakest of them degenerate into shouting. But Oliver Ford Davies is on excellent form as the Duke of York, and Barbara Jefford is outstanding as his Duchess.

 

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