Richard II at the Globe
Ben, Karen and I went to the Globe on Sunday to see Richard II, the second play in the ‘Season of Regime Change’. This is an all male production, starring Mark Rylance as Richard.
It is a superb production - Mark Rylance’s Richard is the star turn, but the ensemble has been working together for some time now, and it shows. Even more, the actors are now familiar with the Globe and the audience, and the play with the audience and the physicality of the acting style make any play there a joy.
There was also a moment of surrealism before the start - Karen had texted her brother for a plot synopsis - so we started the play having just read the following: ‘Watch Bolingbroke - he rises up - rip Richard’
Richard is an ineffectual King. We see him at the start of the play at the end of a hunt, joining his court in singing a round over the carcass of a deer. He is not obviously a King, it is not until he speaks that we realise who he is.
His ruling style is much the same, and in this production he spends most of his time being whispered to, as his advisers and flatterers help him vacillate his way to obscurity. Rylance plays him as if he has a very short attention span, and he giggles his way through audiences - always laughing slightly too long at his own jokes.
At one point, York makes a passionate plea for Richard to act justly, and reform his court to get rid of those who flatter rather than advise. The King is meanwhile muttering to one of these advisers, and at the end of a phlegmatic raging speech from York Richard turns to him, flutters his handkerchief and says ‘Why, what’s the matter?’
Richard is eventually replaced as King by Bolingbroke, aka Henry IV, in a remarkably bloodless coup. The scene where Richard hands over his crown is fantastic, full of pathos and bitterness.
Better is to come however, as after the interval Richard, captive in Pomfret castle, muses on his world and his life. It is here that we see the king he might have been - wise, humble, witty. But it is far too late, and ironic that his greatest wit is spent in an empty prison room.
As has become the standard at the Globe, the play ends with a jig - danced by the entire company to the cheers of the audience. As a codicil to the play, there is a perfect moment when Bolingbroke and Richard dance together laughing - a perfect end to a brilliant play.