Beth Ann Hopkins must have had something in mind when she decided to adapt William Shakespeare’s King Lear and then direct it as well. I’m going to assume that her Lear: That Old Man I Used to Know has something to do with books and their memorable contents over the centuries. As such it’s an imaginative, if not a completely absorbing, take.
The first hint she may be giving spectators is that at the start of her version rather than having the courtier Kent say to Earl of Gloucester, “I thought the King had more affected the Duke of Albany rather than Cornwell,” in something resembling a royal setting, she sends a young girl (Aileen Wu) into an attic. Among the items set designer Steven Brenman positions there are thick sheets covering who-knows-what and a scattering of books.
The girl picks one up and reads verses from Lewis Carroll’s “You are old, Father William.” Almost immediately she hears a sound. Suspecting it’s from under one of the dingy sheets, she removes it—to reveal the conversing Kent (Pete McElligott) and Gloucester (Sarah Dacey Charles). Whereupon they launch into Shakespeare’s well-known act-one/scene-one prose. As they speak, more mumbling emanates from under other sheets. She removes them as well, and in time those gathered to hear Lear’s division of his kingdom are present
Lear (Louis Butelli) doesn’t show up under a sheet. He enters from upstage in full force to propel the familiar action, most notoriously his exiling Cordelia (Wu again) for what he considers an inadequate response to his request for a pledge of love. Yes, he jumpstarts a play that in large part examines the consequences of “foolish, fond old” men refusing to see the truth around them, falling instead for the machinations of the malevolent.
So with her Smith Street Stage production, adapter-director Hopkins gets King Lear going but not without trimming it somewhat. (It still runs for three hours or so with two intermissions.) Rather, she inserts other (and later) authors’ writings. Indeed, she all but constructs a tough test for English literature majors. For instance, at one point Shakespeare’s iambic pentameter is rattling on when a bit of Emily Dickinson’s “I’m Nobody!/Who Are You?” (poem 260) pops out
“Nobody” and “nothing” are Shakespeare themes that echo in much of world literature coming after him. And there, if I’m right (maybe I’m not), is Hopkins’ message. Subjects peppered and salted into King Lear leap from the pages of innumerable books written later.
That may explain why the girl has so many volumes handy. My theory may also account for Hopkins (or her minions) displaying shelves of books in A. R. T.’s third-floor lobby. Furthermore, it may explain why the girl repeatedly delivers to the characters origami-like letters that look as if they might have been ripped from books. Furthermore, almost throughout Lear wears a jacket that has what resembles a shelf of books around the hem.
Reading Carroll’s “You are old, Father William” is indisputably related to Lear’s age, given as “eighty-something years old.” But then again, this could be my attempting to give myself an acceptable excuse for Hopkins’ intentions. Otherwise, she’s merely playing fast and loose with one of the great plays—if not the greatest play—in the English language.
While redlining a hefty part of the script, she remains true enough to the essential ingredients. This despite questionable moments like leaving no reason for, say, Cornwell’s receiving a fatal wound after relieving Gloucester of his eyes. (Lear lovers know one of Cornwell’s henchman—eliminated by Hopkins—strikes the deserved blow.)
Hopkins does deliver a creditable Lear version, if not much more than that. She’s luckiest with her Lear. Butelli plays an older king who isn’t—not by a long shot—diminished in physical power, even as he divests himself of monarchic power. His fear of madness and his descent into it are moving. In his final scene, he carries the dead Cordelia with no problem, certainly enhancing his grief with the series of “Howl”s he bellows.
Hopkins has cast the Fool well with Noelle Franco, whose beautiful face adds to the character’s only pretending to be a fool while others (Lear, Gloucester leading them) are actual fools. Of the others, McElligott’s Kent is strong, as is Vanessa Butler’s Cornwall. Hopkins has another puzzling notion with Kieron Anthony as Albany. Through much of the proceedings, the actor speaks from behind a portrait he’s holding. Eventually, the frame shatters, and there Anthony is. Apparently, Hopkins is saying that when Albany finally asserts himself, he can drop the frozen appearance.
From time to time Hopkins includes the music of Handel, Beethoven, Chopin, and Satie. (Darin Hallinan is the sound designer). Whenever a piano is plunking out those vaunted melodies, one or another of the actors mimes the playing on a simulated keyboard. If that’s what Hopkins wants, okay.
With all the lines excised, Hopkins has the good sense to keep the famous ones. (Too bad Regan’s superbly damning “What need one?” Is thrown away.) So many of those Shakespeare quips are timelessly pertinent—none more so in 2019 than Edgar’s looking at the Lear and Gloucester undoings and insisting, “The worst is not/So long as we can say, ‘This is the worst’.”
Lear: That Old Man I Used to Know opened September 8, 2019, at A. R. T and runs through September 22. Tickets and information: smithstreetstage.org
