The eccentricities of theatre’s first-night diary are to the fore once again. A couple of weeks ago, we had the unlikely coincidence of Hollywood stars Rami Malek and Brie Larson opening on consecutive nights in Greek tragedies in the West End. This week, the spotlight turns to British stars in Shakespeare plays, with Jonathan Bailey, of Bridgerton fame, in Richard II followed immediately by Tom Hiddleston and Hayley Atwell in Much Ado about Nothing. However the latter offering pans out, it is unquestionable that Hiddleston and Atwell have bagged the more accessible drama.
Richard II is a tough ask of a piece, the opening salvo in Shakespeare’s tetralogy of history plays that itself begins in medias res, with politicking and scheming and betrayal carried out by a bewildering array of characters whom we struggle to slot into their appropriate places.
Some canny prior genning up on the plot – as well as the royal family tree – is highly to be advised. Yet the central thrust is clear and compelling, a dilemma that rings clearly down the centuries: the divine right of kings versus a king who is not right for the job.
Richard (Bailey) is a fey and capricious monarch, alarmingly given to rash and whimsical decisions, especially after a night sniffing coke. (The coke, it should perhaps be made clear, does not feature in Shakespeare’s original text, but is a flourish of Nicholas Hytner’s modern-dress production).
Bailey pulses with energy and charisma, which lifts the mood delightfully after all the monochrome men and their moody machinations. When Richard’s uncle John of Gaunt dies, Bailey flops insouciantly onto the sick bed and starts tucking into some grapes.
The scene changes are accompanied by music (by composer Grant Olding) that has uncanny, yet highly fitting, echoes of the theme tune to Succession. For what this play boils down to is a struggle to the death between two cousins, Richard and Henry Bullingbrook (Royce Pierreson), a businesslike and efficient man whom we will know in later plays as a morally wracked Henry IV.
Richard, ever the showman, grandstands even when he is abdicating, handing over his crown to Henry before peevishly snatching it back. In a highly symbolic gesture, the crown proves way too big for Henry’s head.
Prior to this production, the Bridge was home for almost two years to Hytner’s ebullient version of Guys and Dolls, which immersed the actors among the audience. The admirable flexibility of the Bridge space is once again on display here, with in-the-round seating looking on to a long thrust stage, onto which various props and furniture pop up briskly and efficiently. Yet despite all the accoutrements, this is a challenging evening’s viewing, the end result of which is lightly underwhelming.
To 10 May, Bridge Theatre, London (0333 320 0051, bridgetheatre.co.uk)
Comments
Leave a Comment