Sir Anthony Hopkins as King Lear : Discussion

By now you’ve likely seen the trailer for Amazon’s upcoming production of King Lear, starring Anthony Hopkins, Emma Thompson, Emily Watson and a host of other recognizable names.  If not, here you go:

What do we think?  I’ve been speaking with people about it on a number of fronts, both online and real life.  Naturally, I’m looking forward to it.

But …  I don’t know. I’m wary about something and I can’t quite place it.  I’ve watched the trailer several times now. I wanted to comment on how it’s going to be all about the costumes and scenery and less about the words (“you should be able to hear a great Shakespeare play,” I wrote in one draft of this post). But that’s not it.  Kenneth Branagh made some gorgeous productions that we loved.

And I was going to say that there’s more in the trailer that’s not Shakespeare than actual Shakespeare, but again when I went looking I couldn’t see that the problem was all that bad.  I’m still not sure where the hooded execution comes from, and the machine gun fire.  But for the most part – the cars, the hunting dogs, etc… I can see where they’ll most likely fit naturally into the story.

I think my problem is simply with Anthony Hopkins.  I don’t see King Lear (like I did with Alexander Barnett).  I see Hopkins. I see him acting angry, I see him acting silly, I see him in a jaunty little hat like he’s going fishing (or about to play Waiting for Godot). There are times when this can work, given what we know of his past roles.  Seeing a clearly pissed off Anthony Hopkins say, “Better thou hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better,” you can almost imagine the same line coming out of Hannibal Lecter.

Is it just me?  I can’t really say the same about Ian McKellen, for example. I don’t look at Magneto and Gandalf (and King Lear ;)) and say, “Yup, same guy.” I’ve long praised Daniel Day Lewis’ ability to just absolutely disappear into his roles. But something about Hopkins. All I ever see is Hopkins.

What do you think?

 

 

 

Alexander Barnett’s King Lear

I first learned about Alexander Barnett’s King Lear back in 2015. I’m happy to report that the project is finished, and I got to see a screener of the final product.

I’ve seen a few Lears in my time – Sir Ian McKellen’s version (2008), and of course Sir Laurence Olivier (1983).  And I’ve seen it live twice. So I’ve got some amount of familiarity with the play. But let’s not kid ourselves, it’s King Lear, it is a monster. You could see it a dozen times and learn something new every time.

This is a pretty bare-bones production, almost a filmed stage performance. There’s minimal special effects to speak of, no soundtrack, and most of the action takes place in and around “the castle.”  Once I got used to it, I liked it. Because I don’t really want to review an entire movie, going into the costumes and scenery and cinematography. I’ve been saying it for years, I’m here for the Shakespeare. I care about how the characters build based on how they deliver the lines, and how it all comes together in the big picture.  (Compare the coming Anthony Hopkins version, which looks like it’s going to be all about everything but the text.)

I apologize in advance for not doing a detailed breakdown of every character, there’s just too many. With Lear, as with most Shakespeare, I tend to focus on my favorite scenes and characters.

We open with Gloucester joking with Edmund. The two both laugh together, Gloucester even delivering some playful punches on the shoulder to his bastard son. That makes Edmund’s betrayal that much more brutal. When Gloucester later says that Edmund will save him it’s not just “Edmund’s my new favorite now because Edgar betrayed me,” there’s actually a relationship there. It’s easy to hate Edmund.  He’s got that constant smile that, once you learn to see right through it, makes you want to just knock it right off his face.

Later we’ll hear (but not see) Gloucester’s eyes being gouged out.  The scene cuts to Goneril and Edmund in another part of the castle. Goneril is startled and pauses at the noise, but Edmund just looks at her impatiently as if to say, “Yes, and?  Let’s go!” while his father is tortured.

I don’t know what to make of the Fool. He makes me uncomfortable. He’s got this kind of hyperactive thing going where he never stops moving, keeps focusing his attention on different things while he talks.  I feel like I could watch the whole thing again just paying attention to him. Does he love the old man, or is he mocking him? Is he confidently commanding the scene when he tells his jokes and pokes fun at the king, or does he fear the whip?

Interesting decision – there’s a little moment where it appears clear that Fool recognizes Kent, who gives him the finger to the lips “Shhhhhh” gesture. I like that. Makes me think that Fool is smarter than he appears, and that the two are now a team, loyal to the king.

Shall we talk about Barnett’s Lear?  Visually I really like what he’s done. The wild hair, the big bushy beard.  From the minute he enters he looks…well, old. Not skeletal and frail, like Olivier did. He looks like an angry old man. There’s something in his eyes that is … elsewhere. Sometimes he loses his train of thought. He’s got a temper and is quick to anger. It’s no surprise that Regan and Goneril look like they’ve been planning for this day for a long time and are happy it has finally come.

I think the scene with Kent in the stocks is everything. Lear enters the scene thinking he has it all, and he leaves with nothing. Lear loses all control, bouncing back and forth between rage, confusion, bargaining. I like his interaction with Gloucester, how it’s laid out so plainly:

KING LEAR
Why, Gloucester, Gloucester,
I’ld speak with the Duke of Cornwall and his wife.

GLOUCESTER
Well, my good lord, I have inform’d them so.

KING LEAR
Inform’d them! Dost thou understand me, man?

GLOUCESTER
Ay, my good lord.

KING LEAR
The king would speak with Cornwall; the dear father
Would with his daughter speak, commands her service:
Are they inform’d of this?

It takes him so long to understand this idea of “the king said he wants this” and not have people jump to make it happen.  He tries to contain his rage, but doesn’t succeed. Gloucester is the poor middleman who agrees completely that what’s happening is an outrage, but can’t do anything about it.

How’s the big final scene? Very interesting. Lear chooses to carry Cordelia on his back for much of it – right up to “Stay a little” (a line which they actually appear to have cut). It’s almost as if he’s so far gone at this point he forgets that he’s even got her physical body with him. There is no looking glass or feather, he imagines all of that.

Honestly I could write twice this amount and still find details I feel like I’m missing. I watched the whole thing, and then as I wrote this I went back through and paid closer attention to some key scenes.  I also did my “speed reading” trick, leaving closed captions on so I had the text right there in front of me.

At the end of it all this is almost a one-man show.  The other actors do an admirable job, but all of it is just there to move Lear’s story along. There’s not much direction to speak of beyond when and how to move the camera. As I mentioned there’s nothing additional added that’s not in Shakespeare’s text (something we’ll discuss in an upcoming post regarding the Anthony Hopkins version). That makes for a particular type of movie.  Would I invite family and friends to sit down and watch this? Would we have gone to see it in a theatre?  No. But as a student and admirer of Shakespeare will I go back over this multiple times, paying close attention to the performance of individual characters? Absolutely. I already have.

The full movie is available on Amazon Prime.  It is also available to stream On Demand from Vimeo as a 12-part series.

Alexander Barnett is a highly acclaimed American theatre and film actor, director and writer.  He founded Classic Theatre International and toured Europe for 18 years with the greatest Shakespearean tragedies and American classics.  Returning to the States, he wrote and directed his first screenplay, The Eyes of Van Gogh.  He is currently writing a new screenplay.

My Poor Fool Is Hang’d

Let’s talk about King Lear for a second, since I’m in the middle of watching a new production (that I’ll be posting about shortly).

We all know the deal with Fool.  He disappears halfway through the play. There’s that one line “my poor fool is hang’d” at the end.  It’s generally interpreted that Cordelia / Fool were doubled, and that Lear, who is sitting before Cordelia’s hanged corpse, is referring to her as his fool.

That leaves it up to the director.  Many interpretations show the actual death of the character, presumably to give the audience some closure (“Wait, the fool was hanged? When was that, I missed it!”)  Isn’t it the McKellen version that shows Fool left behind, surrounded by enemy soldiers, and hanged right there on screen?  Not a fan of that scene.

I know a production where Gloucester and Kent forget about Fool when they take Lear, leaving him to die in the storm.  Between the two I think I like that ending better.  The former has an element of “humanity is deliberately violent toward each other. The latter is more “humanity can too easily forget each other.”

How else have you seen it done?  Do you prefer to leave it the way Shakespeare wrote it, with no resolution to Fool’s fate?

What Would You Do With Twins?

The other day I saw a discussion about how you think a modern Hamlet’s ghost should be staged. My first thought was, “I was the ghost popping up randomly, in the audience, in a way that makes them think it’s impossible for that to be happening.”

My first thought was, “Hologram?” But I put that off as too expensive, but also because the evidence about what was to happen (such as a mini pedestal/stage where he’d appear) would ruin the effect.

Then I thought, “Just have multiple actors dressed as the ghost, so when one exits, another one can appear elsewhere.”  But if they don’t look identical, the effect isn’t the same.

Twins!  Comedy of Errors had twins.  Ok, fine, maybe Shakespeare didn’t actually have twins to work with (did he?)  I know that I’ve yet to see a Comedy of Errors with actual twins.

But that brings me to our question. What if you did have twins in your group? How would you use them?  On the drive in to work today I was thinking about the difference between doubling an actor (Theseus / Oberon anybody?) versus how you’d do it with twins.  If you never have them on stage at the same time there’s no point, so how would you change the staging to take advantage?

How about two Hamlets?  One that devolves slowly into madness (complete with costume change), while the other remains his normal self, silently watching the proceedings. Until at some crucial point late in the play the good Hamlet disappears. (I saw a high school production once with five Hamlets, all on stage at once, all delivering the lines.  It was weird.)

King Lear where Goneril and Regan are twins?  Not sure how much that really changes the story, but it strengthens the bond between them versus Cordelia, and later shows how big a deal it is when they split.

A Tempest where Ariel and Caliban are twins?  I saw a production once where they were handled like conjoined twins, and at the end Prospero separated them.

I’m clearly no director, but I know many of you are. What better ideas can you come up with?  Assume that you can have access to a set of twins of whatever type you need, young or old, male or female.

The Great Shakespeare Egg Hunt

With Easter approaching, what do you say we go hunting for eggs in Shakespeare’s work?  I’m not going to list them all here (since it’s easy to hunt them down with a search engine where’s the fun in that?) but I’ll hit the most famous ones.  Add more in the comments!

“Give me an egg, nuncle, and I’ll give thee two crowns.”

Why, after I have cut the egg i’ th’ middle and eat up the
meat, the two crowns of the egg.

When I first tried to read King Lear I couldn’t understand Fool at all.  After many readings and watchings, I think the scenes with Lear, Fool and Kent are my favorite (even if I don’t always understand what he’s saying). He’s one of the few people (perhaps the only one?) who can say to the king, “Hey genius, how smart was it to split your kingdom down the middle and then give away both parts?”

Falstaff 

Take away these chalices. Go brew me a pottle of
sack finely.

Bardolph 

With eggs, sir?

Falstaff 

Simple of itself; I’ll no pullet-sperm in my brewage.

Ok Falstaff, eww.  How am I supposed to look at my kids’ Easter eggs the same way ever again?  (Courtesy Merry Wives of Windsor, for those that don’t remember this charming lesson in animal husbandry showing up in the Henry plays.)  I actually googled this to see if I was missing something and saw it turn up in a list entitled “Why Aren’t These Shakespeare Quotes Famous Too?”

 

 

What, you egg!
[Stabbing him]
Young fry of treachery!

Students love this quote, I regularly see it posted when people reading Macbeth for the first time stumble across it. There are web pages and apps and even books dedicated to Shakespearean Insults, but calling somebody an egg just has a special sort of “What did he just call me?” flare to it.

My favorite part is the second line, where he calls him a young fry of treachery.  You know why, don’t you?

Because now he’s a fried egg.

 

On that note, I’m out of here before anybody gets the pitchforks.  What other egg references have you found?