Between 1605 and 1608, William Shakespeare pounded out King Lear, Macbeth, Antony and Cleopatra, and probably hunks of Coriolanus. Amidst these marvels, Shakespeare also more or less produced Timon of Athens, a problem child troubled by a sour riches-to-rags tale and an underdeveloped text.
Probably Shakespeare was exhausted from doing all that concurrent work—some say he suffered a breakdown—and Timon of Athens is a rough draft he never bothered to finish. The titular protagonist is such a downer of a character, who can blame him? There is no record of the play being staged in his lifetime and it rarely gets produced ever.
Anyone desiring to catch this odd bird can spot an extremely stylish Timon of Athens currently out in Brooklyn, where Theatre for a New Audience presents at its Polonsky Shakespeare Center a new version of the text staged in a co-production with Shakespeare Theatre Company in association with The Royal Shakespeare Company.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★★ review here.]
Having named Shakespeare seven times so far, let’s bring up Thomas Middleton, another Jacobean writer. Over the last century, scholars increasingly believe that Middleton to some extent worked on Timon of Athens. Whether as a collaborator or a doctor remains unknown. The title page of the TFANA Playbill officially credits Shakespeare and Middleton as co-authors.
The playwrights share significant modern-day collaborators in Emily Burns and Simon Godwin, who have sharply edited and rearranged their patchy original text for this production, which Godwin also directs.
In the new version, our old buddy Timon has been reborn as a Lady Timon, but her story traces the same downwards path from high society Athens towards the grave:
A wealthy single woman, Lady Timon lavishly entertains her chums and patronizes the arts and fashion. Then she carelessly goes broke. The fair weather friends desert her. Timon bitterly exits into the wilderness. Now a raving misanthrope, Timon discovers buried treasure. So what is she going do now?
Let’s not further reveal the story to readers who never have actually seen the play, which likely is most people. Hey, in a long career of theatergoing, this is only the third time I’ve witnessed it. My first Timon was a darkly funny Brian Bedford in 1993—the only instance when the play appeared on Broadway—and then a latently furious Richard Thomas in 2011 at the Public Theater.
Here it’s Kathryn Hunter, an artist small in physical size but large in every other way, playing Timon as a middle-aged Greek millionairess whose dining room furniture is solid gold. The slightly futuristic Athens created by Godwin and designer Soutra Gilmour on the Polonsky’s thrust stage looks all glitter and satin. Such glamour contrasts against the bleak blacks and whites of the wasteland where Timon later dwells.
While Timon’s desolate existence recalls the heath scenes of King Lear, Hunter’s contemporary acting style plus the surreal visuals established here as the character doggedly digs herself deeper into the earth evokes Beckett, which certainly puts a modern edge upon the 400 year-old drama.
With her croaking voice, glistening eyes, and quick gestures, Hunter suggests a magpie as Timon initially darts among her guests and later scrabbles in the dirt for food. Reworking the character as a forceful woman does not significantly alter the play’s cautionary message about cultivating false friends, but it’s a pleasure to see Hunter cast her singular presence over the production.
This adaptation further re-genders Alcibiades, a warrior, into a woman vigorously depicted by Elia Monte-Brown. Having gone this far, it’s curious that the editors did not also remake Apemantus, a churlish philosopher and another key figure, into a female. Here he is aptly portrayed in a Patti Smith T-shirt by Arnie Burton with a sour smile and a voice dripping with cynicism. Another notable performance is delivered by John Rothman as Timon’s faithful and tearful steward. Other roles are rendered by the ensemble with larger-than-life gusto.
In trimming the drama to a 2:30 running time, Burns and Godwin diced and spliced together some of the Athens scenes and have especially bolstered the conclusion, which in its original form tends to trail off into a whimper. Godwin’s smooth staging of everything is propelled by a strongly rhythmic score composed in a Greek pop music style by Michael Bruce and often sung by a dark-voiced Kristen Misthopoulos.
Since a Timon of Athens rarely comes this way, here’s an opportunity to experience the play in a smartly revised version that’s staged and performed with unusual distinction. It’s worth the trip to Brooklyn.
Timon of Athens opened January 19, 2020, and runs through February 9 at the Polonsky Shakespeare Center. Tickets and information: tfana.org
