Richard III, The Globe, London

Richard woos with a killer's smile in an all-woman cast

Paul Taylor
Thursday 12 June 2003 00:00 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

When Shakespeare's Richard III woos Lady Anne, it's initially an uphill struggle for him. He is, after all, the killer of her husband and her father-in-law, whose corpse plays gooseberry during this oddest of seduction scenes.

In Barry Kyle's fine new "original practices" revival at the Globe, there's another potential obstacle. The performer playing Richard is a woman. So Kathryn Hunter has to exercise sorcery over Anne, who has to believe that her seducer is sincere, and over the audience, which has to believe a woman can play a male murderer. On both counts, Hunter succeeds admirably.

In this year's season at the Globe, where half the plays are being performed by an all-male company and half by an all-female, Kyle's straightforward, entertaining, if perhaps insufficiently evil-haunted production of Richard III exudes quiet confidence that the non-naturalistic, single-sex convention of the Elizabethan theatre will work just as well when the gender is switched.

Playing down the grotesquerie, Hunter's Richard is a nippy little black sprite who skips about the stage with her crippled leg thrust forward. She seems to have developed quite a fan club among the groundlings and while she is quick to respond with amusement to their interventions, she has not yet developed the ease to work her spontaneous reactions into her characterisation.

In the soliloquies, she could underline more just how badly Richard needs the audience as an outlet in a world where he is essentially alone. The cross-dressing, though, gives added zest to the idea of Richard as the gleefully unscrupulous role-player.

Caught in a politically stage-managed tableau of pious devotion, Hunter's antic and often nicely understated would-be monarch is hilarious, feigning unworldly reluctance as the entire theatre pleads with Richard to take the crown.

With an all-female cast there is always a slight danger of the proceedings resembling a girls' school play. But the principle is excellent. There's always been a contradiction between the plays and the Elizabethan practice of banning women altogether. The Globe's Season of Regime Change spiritedly redresses the balance.

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in