The devil is in the detail

Reporter: Paul Genty
Date published: 23 March 2011


KING LEAR, Lowry, Salford
We’ve had them a little too weak (Tom Courtenay at the Exchange), too bluff (Barrie Rutter for Northern Broadsides) and now Derek Jacobi gives us the most precise Lear of a generation.

You would be hard-pressed to see a more detailed and honed Lear than this one, currently wowing audiences on tour from its original sold-out run at London’s Donmar Warehouse, and just as sold out.

But while a week at the Lowry is worth two or more in London in box office terms, the play suffers a little: what was a coolly intimate production is now a white, three-sided box of heavy whitewashed planks in a cavernous theatre, intimacy gone.

And before you think this must help the storm scenes, think again: Michael Grandage’s direct, fuss-free three hours is nothing if not discreet. The storm takes place as sound effects that generously calm to a whisper when Jacobi rails against the night, in this case as internalised speech, not full-on ranting. Even his “blow winds” speech starts quietly before building to full power.

Though this quiet authority is welcome before the interval, it does tend to limit the play’s full-blooded anger, storm and nastiness from man and woman to fellow man as madness takes hold and hot pursuit becomes the order of the day.

You sometimes long for a little less detail and a bit more shouting; some of the cuts also add to a slightly rushed feel.

Jacobi’s performances often have a slightly camp look and this one is no different. Lear positively glows with self-satisfaction as Goneril (the brilliant Gina McKee) and Regan (Justine Mitchell) lay their daughterly affection on a bit thick, and his haughtiness is for once suitable justification for blowing up at the honesty of Cordelia (Pippa Bennett-Warner).

Later, when Lear’s madness takes full flight, the actor’s meanderings can get a little much (but are always complemented by the excellent Fool of Ron Cook); but he brings it all back in for the final tragic scenes.

Supporting characters are just as strong: McKee and Mitchell get almost girlie as they fight over Edmund (a slightly anonymous Alec Newman), while Edgar (Gwilym Lee) descends discreetly into staged madness while caring for his father, touchingly played by Paul Jesson.