Richard II (review)

In his last production as Artistic Director of the Donmar Warehouse, Michael Grandage was faithful to his own style, and approached this final Shakespeare venture by trusting the same reliable resources that he has made his own: a strong and balanced ensemble of actors; an uncomplicated yet beautiful set, lighting, and sound design; lavishly crafted period costume; and a solid direction. If some critics may see a degree of old-fashioned conventionality in his take on Shakespeare, the results proved here its effectiveness.

Walking into the auditorium, the audience could see King Richard dressed in white, pre-set center stage sitting in a replica of Edward the Confessor’s coronation chair with his eyes closed, holding a scepter and wearing his crown. The atmosphere of ritualistic ceremony was enhanced by several elements: three great iron candelabra were lit upstage, a heavy scent of incense filled the air, a bell tolled in the distance, and the three gothic arches that dominated the set shone with a warm golden light, reflected on the balustrade of the upper playing space—a gallery connected to the main thrust stage by a staircase upstage left. As the show began, the courtiers entered individually, knelt to the King, and took places behind him under the gallery. They started to chant a “Sanctus” a cappella, and were progressively joined by strings and percussion, building up to the entrance from the downstage vomitoria of the Queen, led by the hand by the Duke of York, and followed by the rest of the court; John of Gaunt entered last. Finally, the King opened his eyes and rose. Eddie Redmayne’s slim and boyish figure immediately suggested the weakness of a king who could barely control his court, and who was tempestuously infantile in his reactions to adversity. The courtiers—Bushy, Bagot, Green and Aumerle—were also played by slender beardless young actors, looking as though they had been chosen as inoffensive replicas of the king himself. They contrasted in age and physical build with the other courtiers,

Fig. 11.

Eddie Redmayne as Richard II in Donmar Warehouse’s 2011 production of Richard II, directed by Michael Grandage. Photo courtesy of Johan Persson.

including the mature peers. Mowbray and Bolingbroke staged a fierce confrontation between two grown-up men obviously accustomed to battle, in stark contrast to a court whose king seemed to be taking an accusation of high treason rather lightly. That sense of infantile impotence was most noticeable when Richard instinctively retreated as Mowbray took a step forward to address him after his exile had been proclaimed. Shortly afterwards, the King quickly walked up the staircase trying to avoid further confrontation with his uncle Gaunt, as a child eluding a reprimand.

Michael Hadley’s John of Gaunt was powerful in his appeal to the King, and directed a terrifying glance of hatred to him once his son Bolingbroke had been banished. He delivered a moving and varied rendering of his dying scene, walking up and down the empty stage like an old feverish caged lion. His confrontation with Richard peaked with the King’s impotent cries of childish rage at his uncle’s accusations. The King crossed himself at the news of Gaunt’s death, and quickly changed the mood of the scene saying “Now to my Irish wars,” to the amusement of the audience, who were directly addressed by the King as he announced York’s appointment as Governor of England. Ron Cook’s humane York embodied the defeat of common sense which the character seems to be forced to acknowledge, and looked appropriately overwhelmed at the fulfillment of the duties that...