In Which Sophie Views The Genitals Of A Knight Of The Realm.

[sophieisgod]

This afternoon, I saw Ian McKellen play King Lear. It was a bit good.


The pilgrimage to see one of the greatest British stage actors play one of the most prestigious roles began sometime yesterday evening, as I boarded a stinky Merseyrail train to Liverpool. The train was inevitably delayed, forcing me to run through the centre of Liverpool to catch a train to York, where myself and rose_greenthumb would be spending the night. The play was not in York. The play was in Newcastle. There would be many more trains to come. Anyway, because we were a)sleepy and b)cheap, we stayed at Emma's boyfriend's house. But we had cocktails first, to put us in that Shakespeare mood.

This morning (technically yesterday, but I haven't been to bed yet) I got on another train, from York to Newcastle. Emma and I occupied ourselves the way we usually occupy ourselves on trains; we mimed enthusiastically to a range of Disney hits, focusing our efforts on Hercules. We're working on those lyrics. And when we arrived in Newcastle, after swiftly and efficiently locating the theatre (I can read maps! Go me!), we bought a sandwich at Pret and ate it on the monument. Then something special happened. Because it was freakishly sunny in this season of rain, there were many people eating lunch on the monument, so we had to take whatever space we could get. The space we could get was next to a couple of guys, one who looked scruffy and vaguely familiar. Within a minute, I had a text message from Emma, who'd seen both King Lear and The Seagull at Stratford, informing me that the two guys next to us were in the play! And I thought I recognised one of them from Casualty...

After such excitement, the only thing to do was to finish our sandwiches (houmous and salad, yummy) and head to the theatre. And the Theatre Royal is really a gorgeous theatre. See? And because I am sad, I bought a programme and a poster and a set of four postcards. What? It was my first RSC production, I had to do it properly! And my programme proved that Sandwich Man WAS in Casualty! Our seats were supposedly 'limited view', but we were Row B in the Grand Circle, on the end of the row so we were swung round a little bit, and we could basically see the whole theatre and the vast majority of the stage. It was awesome.

And then it started. The opening was haunting and operatic and arresting and beautiful, with a big procession with weird religious overtones and organ music and lots of dropping to knees. Just, gah. And the set was incredible (designed by the same guy who did the production on Evita, which I loved), at the start of the play it looked really opulent, with huge red velvet drapes and pillars and stuff, and as it unfolded it got more and more dilapidated and cracked and seedy. I mean, at the end of the first half the ceiling fell in. By the end it was propped up with sandbags and scaffolding. And the costumes! I've been scouring the internet in vain for pictures, but alas! you shall have to make do with my feeble descriptive powers. Everything was very 19th century, with Russian influences. Lear's soldiers were cossacks! It was magnifique. And Cordelia's gown was possibly the greatest dress of all time. I covet this dress. It was strapless and cream and it had a huge skirt that was all sort of ruched up like Belle's ballroom dress in Beauty & the Beast but BETTER. Also, when she sank to her knees (which happened often) it spread out, like a bell. I want this dress. And in the war-type stuff, the women wore these fantabulous long fitted coats over their gowns! And the men were wearing epaulettes! And sometimes Russian hats!

Anyway, performances. Romola Garai, who is generally wonderful, was playing Cordelia. She was quite a lot brasher than I imagined the character, but I rather liked that. I think it's probably a good thing not to have the 'good daughter' automatically equated with a wilting flower. And I think it's quite a common family dynamic, the father doting on the fiery, ballsy younger daughter. She could have maybe varied her tone a little though, just to mix it up. The contrast between Cordelia, and Goneril and Regan could have been more pronounced if she'd been softer or gentler at certain moments. Overall, though, I like the fact that there was a strong, powerful female character who *wasn't* a complete psychopath. And she looked absolutely radiant. I really enjoyed the performances by the evil sisters, particularly Monica Dolan; she played Regan as a complete lush, it was fantastic.

Philip Winchester as Edmund was slightly hammy, although he did look very nice in tight pants with his shirt open. Ben Meyjes as Edgar was great, very nuanced. Their swordfight was absolutely breathtaking, they were flinging over tables and all sorts. Sylvester McCoy as the fool was pretty good, bordering on annoying sometimes but his timing and general persistence won me over. Plus he's very good at playing the spoons. Ian McKellen as Lear... I don't think I can really do him justice, because all the subtlety in his performance will get bashed out with hammers if I try and write it down, so let me just say that he was funny, compelling, pathetic, heartbreaking and many other adjectives that meant I could not take my eyes off him when he was on stage.

Oh, and he got his cock out.

So, I left the theatre with an RSC addiction in the making, too much merchandise and a visual memory to treasure forever, then I got three trains and went home.


I CANNOT wait to see The Penelopiad in September.

Comments

[rose-greenthumb.livejournal.com]

You always have to lower the tone...

[sophieisgod.livejournal.com]

You know you love it, you slaaaag.

Also, IMAX Thursday!