KEY POINTS:
REVIEW
What: King Lear
Where: Aotea Centre
Reviewer: Paul Simei-Barton
The essayist William Hazlitt believed any attempt to describe the effect of King Lear was "mere impertinence". It is a salutary warning for critics and when the role is played by one of the world's finest actors there is also the hazard of over-used superlatives. But something must be written and for me, Ian McKellen's Lear is an absolute triumph - an enthralling, deeply moving portrayal that carries us through all the twist and turns of Lear's journey.
The intense physicality of the performance is astounding, with the 68-year-old McKellen drenched with rain and staggering beneath the weight of Cordelia's body. Even more impressive is the voice that finds rhythm in the most complex speeches and uses the rhythm to transmit emotions ranging from comical bemusement to the animalistic howl of a grief that is utterly beyond words.
Trevor Nunn's direction is not constrained by the need to make grand interpretive statements. Instead there is a loving attention to detail, brilliantly inventive stage-craft and a willingness to embrace the play's many contradictions and enigmas.
Even the villainous and virtuous daughters are painted in shades of grey. The icy cunning of Frances Barber's Goneril is humanised by the strained tears she sheds as her enraged father curses the fruitfulness of her womb.
Similarly Regan's demented whoops as she witnesses the blinding of Gloucester suggest a psyche that had been severely damaged by the experience of being Lear's daughter. And Romola Garai takes some of the radiance from the saintly Cordelia by giving an ostentatious tone to her declarations of love for her father.
Minds far sharper than mine have been unable to decide whether Lear is an uplifting tale of redemption through suffering or a nihilistic vision of a universe devoid of meaning. Here the weighty existential questions seem to be set aside and the emphasis is shifted onto the political and social dimensions of the tragedy.
Whatever else King Lear may be, it is a devastating indictment of the abuse of power. By transposing the story in an indistinct, early twentieth century setting, Nunn reminds us that tyranny does not belong to any particular era.
After Lear has learned "to feel what wretches feel" McKellen presents the king as a kind of idiot savant and in moments of lucidity he seems to be analysing the hypocrisy and corruption of the authority he once embodied.
These insights are echoed by Sylvester McCoy's melancholy Fool who expresses great pathos as he delivers a prophetic speech condemning injustice while his captors hoist him on a gibbet. And Ben Meyjes' riveting portrayal of Edgar, the dithering aristocrat, achieves the forcefulness of a righteous avenger when he takes on the appearance and attitudes of a peasant.
One of the great pleasures of a Royal Shakespeare Company production is the attention that is lavished on the most minor parts and this quality is used to great effect in the starkly drawn contrast between the brutality of court life and decency of the lowly working folk.
The distinction is tellingly revealed in the rebellion of the Cornwalls' unnamed servant who is appalled by his master's cruelty towards Gloucester, and also in the reaction of the soldiers who appear genuinely moved when the captured Lear declares that the simplicity of imprisonment is preferable to the intrigues of courtly life.
