Review: King Lear

Ambitious. It is a word reviewers such as myself often use to politely acknowledge the palpable effort of a production, but which leaves ambiguous whether what was attempted was actually achieved. It is a word that says, well yes, they did try! In sitting down to review King Lear, directed by Eilidh Read and produced by Carrie Cheung, ambitious is not a word that comes to mind. Admittedly, it was a show that took no moonshots. That said, it was a pared-back yet highly effective, ‘if it ain’t broke don’t fix it’ approach to Shakespeare. Ambitious, no, but certainly successful.

ID: The cast of King Lear, with Elodie Bain (foreground) looking at India Kolb (centre right). Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.

It’s a great choice of Shakespeare play for a St Andrews audience, what with King Lear being on a subhonours compulsory English module. This show’s decision to have a female Lear seemed born of those second-year lectures that discussed the play’s gender dynamics. It returns mothers to a show absent of them, and engages with Lear’s gendered discussions of madness: “O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! / Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow.” 

India Kolb is impressive as Lear, spitting pure venom before devolving into dizzying senility. There does exist a history of the role being gender-swapped – I personally saw Kathryn Hunter as Lear in the 2022 Globe production. While Hunter was mostly androgynous, Kolb was unrelentingly feminine in her voice and presentation. 

ID: India Kolb looking to the side. Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.  

The gender-swapping overall felt to a deliberate feminist end. Some scholars postulate that Goneril and Regan are written as ungrateful villainous daughters to satisfy Early Modern ideas about the illegitimacy of women rulers. To gender-swap the show’s hero Edgar to Edith (Izi Prothero), as well as Lear, solved the script’s gender oppositions. This Lear is clearly the work of people who have studied and deeply thought about the text.

Another main takeaway of those second-year lectures was that Lear is a play both about Britain’s past and present. The costumes, led by Emily Shoker, certainly spoke to that. This theme of a nation chronically dysfunctional throughout history was articulated by dressing characters in different period costumes: Cornwall (Jack Dams) was dressed in Renaissance doublet, whereas Gloucester (Buster van der Geest) wore the top hat of a Victorian gentleman. Each outfit was fully realized, with no cheap shortcuts taken, and everyone looked beautiful. 

However, the assortment of period costumes risked disorienting audiences and spoiled stylistic unity. In the aforementioned 2022 Globe production, they too took this approach of different period costumes, but pushed it to its extreme: some characters donned ancient Roman military apparel and some wore jeans. If you meant to dislocate the play from time, you needed to be more overt. If I am totally wrong about the costumes and you were trying to locate it in time, you needed to be more visually cohesive. 

ID: Poppy Kimitris with rosary, beside Buster van der Geest. 
Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.

Otherwise, Lear was a visually perfect show. The set and props (Anoushka Paymaster Thatcher and Rosie Wood) were delightfully restrained. A favourite prop was Regan’s (Poppy Kimitris) rosary, that Kimitris played with in her hands but didn’t actually count the beads of. Performative religiosity signalled in stage item – awesome! Most props were placed at the back of the stage, alongside set dressing. It made the production dynamic, making scene changes quick and keeping the show’s pace up. It was this attention to detail that made me feel I was in safe and proficient hands. 

The sound (Annie Schofield) was another moderately yet thoughtfully used aspect. The low volume was generally appreciated. However, I feel like in the show’s more intense moments – namely, the storm and the battle – were not pushed to their full potential on account of how quiet the soundscapes were. 

On the subject of tech, this is one of few student productions I have seen that did not have one missed lighting cue or wayward spotlight. Well done to light techs Lara Hickman and Erin Reynolds. The standard for King Lear was exceptionally high when it came to tech. 

ID: Sacha Murray Threipland standing.  
Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.

Nary an amateur in the crew, nary an amateur in the cast. Lear might have bagged some of the greatest actors St Andrews has at its disposal. Across major and minor roles, everyone seemed confident and purposeful in every line and movement. Sacha Murray Threipland in the role of Edmund had the vital ability to make Shakespeare sound like everyday talk through his line delivery, oscillating between funny and menacing. Roseanna McNaught-Davis as Goneril played ice queen so coolly that when her self-control broke I was startled. 

Louise Windsor, in the role of Kent, was foreboding as a duchess, and hilarious when disguised as Caius the servant. I just wasn’t sure about the northern accent she did as Caius. I really do want to hear such accents speaking Shakespeare – I just don’t want to hear them only done in jest by courtly southerners pretending to be poor. Call me too woke, but if it isn’t offensive, it’s banal. To reiterate, though: Windsor’s performance was wonderful. It was just a decision for the character that rubbed me the wrong way. 

ID: India Kolb behind Roseanna McNaught-Davis.
Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.

Gloucester, played by Buster van der Geest, was another standout for me. He was hilarious in his introduction, a silly old fellow with a face puce with rage. By the show’s conclusion, he was transformed into a frail old man, shivering and helpless. Van der Geest’s physicality and voice modulation made his journey both deeply convincing and heartbreaking. 

The eye-gouging episode, in which Cornwall blinds Gloucester, is famously the hardest scene to pull off in Lear. On a technical level, so much could go wrong. Audience-wise, people have been known to exclaim, faint, and even vomit in response. When Cornwall dashed Gloucester’s eyeballs onto the floor, bursting them into bits, a visceral reaction was triggered in the audience. Horrified gasps and nervous laughter were signs of getting something really right. I only wish the scene had been pushed more: I wanted louder screams, I wanted more blood. You’ve got us gasping, but next time could you make us vomit?  

ID: Roseanna McNaught-Davis facing Eva Rieckewald.  
Credit: Nina Brook-Lloyd.

Across the board, the violence in King Lear was very effective (which sometimes really can be hard to do when you’re working with those silly Mermaids prop swords). Fight choreographer Fintan Chapman is brilliant at what he does. I had previously seen his work in Romeo and Juliet last semester. Across both shows, it is clear that he is not only technically precise but works to make each character’s fighting style reflective of their personality. A standout sword-fight was between Kent and Oswald (Eva Rieckewald). 

And just while I’m on the subject, I want to call attention to Rieckewald’s astounding commitment. I’ve never seen an actor so physically unrestrained and relentless – I was really quite worried about how hard and regularly she hit the floor. Rieckewald must have been really bruised up, but my God was it worth it. In a small role, she had a huge presence.

Overall, King Lear was the work of seasoned professionals. It did not take the route of high-risk, high-reward, high-concept like many other St Andrews Shakespeare productions of yore – all-girls school Macbeth, Californian Much Ado About Nothing, summer camp Romeo and Juliet. Instead, it had a steady and reserved set of aims, all of which it performed to a high standard. Pick up, King Lear cast and crew, the Globe is calling. 

By Bel (she/her)