Richard II

by William Shakespeare

seen at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse on 5 April 2019

Adjoa Andoh and Lynette Linton co-direct an exciting production of Richard II performed by a cast of women of colour supported by an entirely female stage crew. Adjoa Andoh herself plays King Richard, with Sarah Niles as Bolingbroke, Dona Croll as John of Gaunt, Shobna Gulati as the Duke of York, Ayesha Dharker as Aumerle, Leila Farzad as the Queen, Indra Ové as both Mowbray and Northumberland, and Nicholle Cherrie, Lourdes Faberes and Sarah Lam playing the other parts.

There is of course an element of statement-making about all this: why should actors of any gender or race be denied the chance to play Shakespeare, especially considering that originally (in Shakespeare's day) all the female parts were taken by men or boys? But, dramatically as an experience on stage, the issue is virtually irrelevant: the production is magnificent at exploring new facets of a familiar - even over-familiar - story, simply by capitalising on the extraordinary energy and freshness of the performances and the exotic setting.

The stage, candle-lit as usual, is transformed by a curtain of bamboo in front of the elaborately decorated permanent back wall. The costumes are drawn from various backgrounds - African, Middle Eastern and Indian - and the regality of the court is represented not by gorgeous medievalism (reflecting, for instance, the famous Wilton Diptych which includes a portrait of Richard II on one of its panels), but rather by a tribalistic and despotic splendour which Richard is all too happy to exploit. The result is a far more angry and volatile king, strutting like a dictator and using even his mocking laughter as a weapon of subjugation until he is finally stripped of power. Even in prison, where often a rueful almost philosophic resignation is commonly deployed, Andoh remains emotionally engaged to the last.

The courtiers follow the rules at first, joining in the chants, bowing and touching the foot to show respect (indeed Richard himself touches the foot of both his uncles even though he defies them), but they are quite happy to display a steely malice once the factions emerge. Sarah Niles's Bolingbroke is passionate about perceived slights (hence the opening challenge to Mowbray, and the determination to reclaim the Duchy of Lancaster after John of Gaunt's death), but often inscrutable, barely flustered by the antics of the abdication scene, while Indra Ové's Northumberland is particularly viperous.

It's fascinating to have seen this so soon after the Almeida production (reviewed in January 2019). That was stripped down and modern, with Richard played by a superb actor in his late fifties; this is a more complete text (but without the often jarring distraction of the York-Aumerle subplot) and a very different Richard played by another superb actor. Narcissism in power has many permutations and we have seen two different but equally convincing demonstrations of its dangers in the space of a few months.