It’s been reported that Donald Trump is a very distant relative of Richard III, and now director Elle While – with Globe artistic director Michelle Terry in the lead role – explores that connection in a production which applies a Trumpian twist on Shakespeare’s menacing monarch.
But this particular version has not come without controversy. Hundreds of individuals and arts organisations signed an open letter criticising the Globe for casting an actor as Richard – who had scoliosis – who is understood not to have a physical disability (Terry, in one of her comments on the fallout, points out “no asked me or the director how we identified”). And so, alongside proving itself as a production/adaptation, this version must also justify its decision to persevere and continue with Terry in the lead role.
So, what to make of her performance?
At first, after watching Richard III, I feared the company would know my answer to this question before this review went live. My notebook was used as a prop for Helen Schlesinger’s grandiose Buckingham in act one, though I have since been reassured the notes weren’t read.
Anyway, Terry gives a solid take on Richard full of caricatures, impressions and mimicry. She nails the Trump gesticulations, sports a unruly mop of blonde hair (make of that what you will) and a fake six-pack, and carries a tonal unpredictability in the delivery of her lines – from singsong to sarcastic to suggestive. I found him unlikeable (as you should), but it’s almost as if the fluidity of his character and demeanour is the main contributor to that sentiment – alongside the murder, of course. On top of this, his flat disinterest in others’ affairs is, at times, humorous in its bluntness.
Alongside this portrayal are a number of amusing creative decisions: the sloping platform at the band level (from designer E. M. Parry) alluding to an uneven rule; discordant and offbeat music throughout from composer James Maloney; the progression in Jess Williams’ movement direction from joyous dancing to robotic, military choreography; and the grated pit in the ground into which bodies are unceremoniously dumped or directed into.
And I’ve come to learn in my time as a theatre critic that giving thought to what I wanted to see happen on the stage is pointless and fruitless, pulling attention away from what actually unfolds in front of me to engage in hypotheticals which never see the light of day. Yet, when we concern ourselves with a casting decision which may or may not have been the most responsible, then the temptation to consider what could and perhaps should have been becomes more potent and justifiable.
With all the nods to Trump, could a physically disabled actor playing a physically disabled Richard have tapped into the ableism directed at the former US president whenever he came into difficulty walking? No stairs required, but it could have highlighted the growing trend in ableism being used to attack a politician’s credibility or fitness for public office.
Terry, in previous comments about her casting in Richard III, said: “What play are we left to experiment with if this conflation [of evil with disability] is removed? We are left with a play about tyranny, abuse of power and toxic misogyny. And right now, we feel that this is something important to explore.”
To me, this appears to infer that themes of corruption and ableism cannot co-exist in this latest portrayal – that the latter may detract from the former. Indeed, Terry goes on to add that the company’s interpretation “does not mean that we have forgotten disability” as “the whole play is saturated with ableism that we will address and unpack throughout the process”.
Except we don’t see any of that in the final production. It instead seeks to spend more time examining the misogyny espoused by Richard. It’s cleverly done, through all the aforementioned Trump references and more, but when one of the justifications for not recasting Terry is a promise to unpack the ableism contained in the play which isn’t visible on the stage, Terry’s lengthy defence of her own casting is at least somewhat undermined.
A disability lens doth giveth, not taketh away – to bastardise a phrase. This production can still explore misogyny with the added accuracy of having a disabled actor play a disabled monarch. If anything, it can open up wider conversations – indisputably something theatre always strives to generate.
Yes, Terry is right in that opportunities for a disabled actor to play Richard III “will come around again” and to explore “how Richard’s
‘deformity’ initiates the action of the play”, but there likely won’t be another opportunity to apply a disability perspective to the baseline ideas evoked by While.
Ultimately, it’s a case of objective accuracy and increased discussion of ideas contained in Shakespeare’s play, versus the subjective merits of casting a particular actor who, in this case, has had a go at performing in A Midsummer Night’s Dream (twice), King Lear, The Fir Tree, Twelfth Night, The Taming of the Shrew, Henry IV Part 1, Macbeth, Hamlet, The Complete Walks, As You Like It (also twice), and Love’s Labour’s Lost.
As I’ve already made clear, Terry gives a fine performance here, but this production – and the discourse surrounding it – has morphed into an unfortunate debate which is just about what’s left in as what’s left out.
It is important to note, though, that the production is not totally devoid of disability representation. Katie Erich (The Solid Life of Sugar Water) plays Anne and does so with such rich expressiveness that British Sign Language (BSL) allows – not least when she makes clear her vitriolic hatred of Richard, her signing conveying this idea that her grief and lust for vengeance spans beyond words. The protagonist’s manipulation of Anne is just as intriguing, using her language to exploit her and, once that works, her vibrant red dress is swapped for jet black. Black scrunchies cover her wrist and neck, stripping her of any right to self-advocate. A sparring of words is displayed in Marianne Oldham’s Elizabeth, too, and that’s just as intriguing to watch.
There’s tons of fun references for the politicos (pop art/Obama-style posters of Richard adorn the stage going into act two, the monarch decries a “witch hunt” at one point, and even “wokeness” gets a shoo-in), even though some feel a bit more forced (namely a citing of the “more in common” slogan popularised by the late Jo Cox).
This contemporary reframing, and viewing Richard’s attitude towards women from this perspective, is basically the main pull of this Richard III. There’s one observation to be taken from this that not a lot has changed over the centuries in the political arena, but that’s pretty much it, making for an entertaining couple of hours than a particularly stimulating one.
★★★
Richard III is now playing at Shakespeare’s Globe until 3 August.
The show will be captioned on 27 May and 15 July, with signed performances scheduled for 22 June and 19 July.
Relaxed performances will take place on 1 June and 10 July, and the performance will be audio described on 20 June and 22 July.
Production Images: Marc Brenner.
Disclaimer: I was invited to watch ‘Richard III’ for free in exchange for a review of the performance as a member of the press. I did not receive payment for this article and while I know Katie Erich personally, all opinions stated above are honest and my own.
Liam O'Dell 