'Tragedy of King Lear' prompts laughs, not tears

Sitting before Theater Intime's production of "King Lear," directed by Laura Fletcher '10, one needed only to listen to the response of the audience to gather that something was amiss: For what is perhaps Shakespeare's darkest play, there was a surprising - even disturbing - amount of laughter. Aside from the wise wit of the Fool (Dave Holtz '10) and some occasional dark humor woven through the play's greater heartbreak, laughter should really be the last response that Shakespeare's devastating tragedy provokes.

The set itself is simple, reduced essentially to a series of archways conveying the feel of the royal court and the use of lighting to represent changes in scene and mood. Though this in itself is nothing troublesome, it places an even greater emphasis on the quality of the actors' performances. Unfortunately, a certain blandness of representation persisted in characters that are meant to convey some of the most extreme human dispositions in English literature.

The opening scene exposed some of the weaknesses in performance that continued throughout the three-hour production. After a brief, though engaging, exchange between Kent (Paul Bangiola '11), Gloucester (Pete Walkingshaw '10) and Edmund (Brad Wilson, a senior at the Princeton Day School), inertia descended upon the stage. As Lear (Max Rosmarin '11) divides his land between his daughters, Regan (Hannah Wilson '11), Goneril (Jenna Devine '12) and Cordelia (Phoenix Gonzalez '11), the court that gathers around him is largely expressionless and unmoving: A few forced looks of wonder pass between Regan and Goneril, and Cordelia attempts some semblance of distress, but nothing near the tragic bewilderment the scene demands. Meanwhile, Albany (Josh Eisenthal '09) and Cornwall (Brandon Lowden '09) stand by with overwhelmingly impassive appearances. That said, Kent's fervent appeals on Cordelia's behalf and Lear's insecure, irrational behavior - especially in response to Kent - are conveyed with a more fitting degree of energy and emotion. Lowden is also a columnist for The Daily Princetonian.

The general stasis of this opening is relieved by the somewhat more fluid staging of proceeding scenes, as well as the fast action of various duels, beatings and of course the cruel eye-gouging of Gloucester. The last is a particularly graphic and gory portrayal, replete with torturous screaming and a Gloucester whose face is almost completely streaked in blood. The fight scenes (choreographed by Bangiola), while not spectacular, are certainly convincing, particularly the scene of Oswald's (Brad Baron '11) beating at the hands of Kent.

Nonetheless, the quality of the acting remains disappointingly below par. The portrayal of Edmund, for instance, is especially troublesome. While some suggestion of his conniving nature seems to be attempted in the image of him playing chess during his initial soliloquy, he hardly retains the cold, calculating indifference so striking in this Shakespearean figure. In fact, this Edmund won a significant number of those disturbing laughs: His despondency over his illegitimacy and his interactions with his inattentive father were more humorous than tragic, while his later relations with Regan and Goneril seemed overly affectionate for such a cold character. More than anything, Edmund's single-minded, ruthless drive was overshadowed by a representation that was not only sympathetic but indeed almost affable.

While the representation of Edmund's brother, Edgar (Ben Knudsen '11), was not distracting, neither was it particularly poignant. A sort of blandness again pervaded his characterization and, by the play's close, the audience was still left wanting a real sense of Edgar's person. His scenes are improved by the frequent presence of Gloucester, who provided a more emotive rendering of the doomed earl. Hobbling across the stage, wracked with grief and regret, Gloucester presented one of the more captivating performances of the overall production.

With evil sisters whose treacherous jealousy is never quite felt and a Cordelia more childish than strong (especially considering her role as warrior), it is ultimately the father of the play, Lear himself, who upholds the production. He rages absurdly through the majority of the show, and his descent into madness is tangible - though one wonders if, at a certain point, some of the subtleties of his character are lost in the frenzy.

But, then again, he is mad. Lear's dramatic scene on the heath benefits from effective staging: Thunderous sound, the flash of lightning and the silhouette-like appearances of Lear and the Fool enhance the sense of crisis.

"King Lear" is a difficult play to stage, to be sure. Yet, its powerful story of familial drama should itself provoke visceral reactions from the audience. In the last scene, when Lear stumbles on stage, his dead Cordelia in his arms, the utter devastation is only vaguely felt. Lear howls, and though some of his more affecting lines are quickly skimmed over, any sense of the scene's grief rides on him. At the play's close, as at its opening, the vast majority of the characters hang around impassively, watching the tragedy acted out by Lear but hardly acting anything themselves. On the whole, Intime's production is a dulled version of Shakespeare's dark drama, the little sense of tragedy that ekes through more readily attributable to the haunting lines of the poet than to any particularly effective rendering by the cast.

2 paws

Pros Moments of effective staging and a powerful lead performance.

Cons Weak supporting cast fails to convey the cathartic power of the text, leading to moments of unintended humor.