Review: Queen Lear

Queen Lear
MTC
12 July 2012
Sumner Theatre
to 18 August
mtc.com.au

Queen Lear was always going to be a bitch to review.

Men and women are different beasts who adore and loathe each other because we see the world in slightly different ways. Shakespeare's women aren't as richly fascinating as his men, so the gender swap isn't that unusual (Kate Mulvany's recent Cassius comes to mind), but to do so successfully means that every relationship to Lear has to change in subtle ways that together change the story.

It's here that Rachel McDonald, as dramaturg and director, is most successful. Too often the on-stage relationships in Shakespeare are ignored for the sake of original character, but McDonald's Lear is led by the changing status and relationships that are often much clearer that her story.

The relationship between mother Lear (Robyn Nevin) and daughters Reagan (Belinda McClory) and Goneril (Genevieve Picot) starts with the bitter angry resentment that comes from not being loved enough by the person who's meant to love you the most. It's personal and touching and a father could not make Goneril cry in quite the same way. (I haven't mentioned youngest daughter Cordelia because I have no idea what was going on with her and gave up trying to understand.) The most unexpectedly moving relationship is between Kent (Robert Menzies) and Lear as Kent tries to protect and respect his Queen, and Greg Stone brings a surprising depth to his wheelchair-bound Albany by focussing on how his relationship with his wife Goneril changes.

Niklas Pajanti's lighting is exquisite in its creation of the void-like world and its momentary glimpses of characters as they came in and out of the dark. It made the stage look beautiful and intriguing and helps make sense of a design (Tracy Grant Lord) that baffles.

The stage has depth and levels that are beautiful to look at, but offer a confusing world. Maybe the hanging chains bound them to the gods; perhaps Edgar's bike and naked shower were his last hints of freedom – but why was there a giant phallus that grew and shrank and ejaculated pretty fools in white nighties?

McDonald's program notes say, "It is like a science-fiction world ... simultaneously ancient, contemporary and retro." This explains why the costumes were a bit Bride of Frankenstein meets Blake's Seven and Mad Men, but by drawing on so many aesthetics, Lear's world is merely a mish-mash of ideas that distract – often comically – from the telling of the story. It may be a stronger telling with just the costumes and the lighting.

But no matter what, it's Lear we go to see.

Robyn Nevin was always going to be Lear like no other. And she is. The night opens magnificently with a woman with undisputed power. She loves being Queen and the accompanying parties and gorgeous frocks; she never considers that her power will change when she splits the property between the kids. As the two elder daughters learnt how to behave from their mum,  everything is taken from mum and her anger mixes with dementia as she fights to maintain her mask and keep the hurting old lady hidden.  Her fool is placed in her head and appears as versions of her daughters who help create her lucidity in the madness; if only they didn't keep popping out of the giant penis.

For all the oddness of Queen Lear, when Queen Robyn is on stage, the rest makes more sense.

Photo by Jeff Busby

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com.

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Rock ‘n’ Roll

Rock ‘n’ Roll

MTC

February 2008

The Playhouse, the Arts Centre

 

Tom Stoppard brilliantly uses the potent, resonating, loud, angry symbolism of rock and roll throughout Rock ‘n’ Roll. Stoppard continues to write superb scripts; so why is the MTC’s production about as rock ‘n’ roll as Nanna quietly humming “The Sound of Music” as she has a luke warm cup of tea and a Milk Arrowroot?

There’s a very interesting story hidden in the Stoppard script. It combines the historical with the political and the very personal; then wraps it all in an image understood by anyone born in the 20^th century. It follows the lives of an English and a Czechoslovakian academic who met at Cambridge in the 60s. The Czech returned to his home during the brief period of liberty in 1968. Their stories weave through to opening up of Eastern Europe in the late 80s.

I’m sure director Simon Phillips and his cast know the story, but it isn’t told clearly on the stage. The characters, the plot and the context are all confusing. I read the program after the show and learnt things I didn’t know about Czechoslovakia from 1968 to 1989 – facts and people that were vital to the story – shame I didn’t understand all of this after watching a three-hour long production. Programme notes are great – but they shouldn’t be necessary to understand a production.

The coherency also suffered from a lack of context. I think the picture of Gough was letting us know it was the 70s. I hope it wasn’t implying that the 1975 debacle in Australian politics was as oppressive as living behind the iron curtain at the same time. The whole production just felt so old school. Here we in Australian theatres, AGAIN pretending that we are in the UK.

I think Stoppard wrote these characters to be played with a generous dose of satire. Has anyone ever said, “The only thing that would make you happy is of the workers owned the means of production” in any context other than a first year politics tutorial? Phillips directed it far too seriously. There wasn’t room to enjoy the humour. A couple of jokes got laughs – but we were laughing at the joke, not the comedy inherent in the script or the characters.

Genevieve Picot and William Zappa stood out amongst the cast. They brought an authenticity and life to their characters and to the stage. The story, however, does revolve around Jan, played by Matthew Newton.  As an actor, you don’t have to like anything the script or the director tells you to do, but your job is to make the audience not only believe, but care about your character.  I didn’t give a toss about Jan and what happened to him. Newton’s performance was as beige as Jan’s high waisted cord trousers.

The Rock ‘n’ Roll set suitably looked like a rock gig with a wall of speakers and a moveable lighting rig. Scenes changes were music, lights and video footage establishing time and place.  A rock concert is bright, loud and imposing. So why weren’t these changes rock and roll? The sound wasn’t even half of 11 and it didn’t take long to suspect that the lights on the rig were just decoration. I can understand many of the decisions made in the direction, but this one just floored me.

In Act 2, Jan says to Nigel, “We mass produce banality in Czechoslovakia.” We seem to be doing it here in Melbourne as well. Am I wrong to expect to walk out of production by our flagship company feeling inspired?

This review appeared on AussieTheatre.com