Little Richard

Shakespeare’s language soars - at GSF’s Richard II

The paradox of Richard II is that the very elements that make it one of Shakespeare’s rarely performed plays are the very ones that make it realistic and relevant for today. Kicking off the Henry IV and Henry V cycle of histories, Richard II is low on demonstrative action, having almost none of the intricate plotting and gory violence of the major tragedies, with only one killing onstage. Duels are challenged but go unfought, and even the coup d’etat at the center of the play scarcely involves any fatalities. Instead, Richard II depicts something closer to the modern transfer of power and the national dilemma when “base men are made great.” And that’s doubtless part of the reason why the Georgia Shakespeare Festival’s production takes place in modern dress.

On the play’s opening night, GSF artistic director Richard Garner stepped into the spotlight to offer a brief primer on the play’s complicated historical context. The gist is that when two feuding English noblemen, Bolingbroke (Mark Kincaid) and Mowbray (Hudson Adams), air their grievance in the royal court, arrogant King Richard (Christ Kayser) makes a crucial error by banishing them both rather than letting a duel decide their differences.

Richard compounds his mistakes by seizing the lands and monies of Bolingbroke’s father, John of Gaunt (Tim McDonough), who dies enraged at the king’s behavior. Bolingbroke returns from exile, claiming he only wants his rights, but he amasses such popular support that Richard sees his own power quickly evaporate. The feckless king faces not only the loss of his throne, but his life itself.

Shakespeare’s interest in the tension between secular popularity and the divine right of kings may be out of date, but the play’s other divided loyalties remain fresh. Allen O’Reilly passionately portrays the many conflicts of the Duke of York, who’s first torn between King Richard and kinsman Bolingbroke, and later between country and family when he discovers his own son’s (Jim Butz) involvement in a seditious plot. Leather-jacketed Kincaid can occasionally have a little too much John Wayne swagger as Bolingbroke, but he seems a more natural leader than Richard and takes none of his actions lightly.

In 1998, director Tim Ocel helmed a superlative staging of Measure for Measure at the GSF that proved boldly imaginative while still true to the heart of the play. His Richard II can seem a bit static by comparison, with occasionally bombastic players standing in place, but it is no less mindful of the text’s strengths. Leslie Taylor designed an imposing set with metal handrails and granite walls and stairs, while B Modern’s costumes, while contemporary, don’t point to a specific time or country.

Compared to the recent Hamlet motion picture, the production includes few time-specific details, except for the occasional microphone and rifle (which prompts some phony gunshot sound effects). One of Ocel’s clever touches is to suggest Richard’s ignobility by showing him smoking cigars and playing poker with his flattering attendants — although I’m unsure of the underlying message in having the corrupt courtiers being overtly homosexual. The occasional string music in the background offers a moody undertone, while the melodramatic synthesizer strains are merely cheesy.

The GSF production can be exhausting not just for its length of three-plus hours, but because the play’s words and the characters’ complex relationships reward close, sustained listening. Richard II is Shakespeare’s only play written entirely in verse, some of it rhyming, most of it blank. It may not be as quotable as Hamlet or Romeo and Juliet, but it fully lives up to its reputation for lyrical language, from vivid imagery to wry wordplay to some of Shakespeare’s most soaring speeches.

McDonough invests John Gaunt’s deathbed oration on the state of England with righteous indignation, while Richard’s final soliloquy on his imprisonment movingly reflect the king’s shattered self-image. Even the relatively small role of Richard’s queen (Janice Akers) becomes surprisingly moving, especially when she poignantly shares her last kiss with the fallen king.

The GSF production requires the right Richard and has an ideal one in Kayser, who might be older than the part as written but manages to cultivate empathy for a figure who’s neither an engaging hero nor a compelling villain. Listening to John of Gaunt’s dying words, he impatiently bounces a heel; in the face of his rival’s triumph, he turns bitter and sarcastic. Kayser’s Richard believes the worst so quickly you believe that he’s never been sure of himself, and always expected somehow to fail.

In the GSF’s Richard II, Kayser and director Ocel nail what may be the deposed ruler’s crowning irony: In losing his throne, he becomes a more nuanced and sympathetic human being, with greater depth of feeling for his wife and increasingly splendid verbal powers. You might say that nothing became Richard’s kingship like the leaving of it.

Richard II plays through Aug. 11 at the Georgia Shakespeare Festival, 4484 Peachtree Road, with performances at 8 p.m. Tues.-Sat. and 2 and 8 p.m. Sun. $20-$26.50. 404-264-0020.