This chilling setup suits what’s clearly an unhappy court. As Lear gathers his people for a miked-up, echoey press conference to announce the divvying up of his kingdom, the three daughters appear with sour faces. Especially the tomboyish Cordelia (Gloria Obianyo), whose sullen refusal to attempt to top her sisters’ insincere proclamations of love for their father suggests she’s seen this coming. Lear’s instant, explosive rage – hurling the mics to the floor while his hovering aids rush to restrain him – implies he’s long ruled his household and kingdom with an iron fist.
With Cordelia banished, and control left to Goneril (Akiya Henry) and Regan (Faith Omole), so begins the mockery and asset stripping of the king. It climaxes in an almighty storm which is lent an immersive edge in Farber’s production: characters come running down the aisle, while Lee Curran’s lighting sends white flashes through the theatre and live violins add to the frenzy of Max Perryment’s rumbling compositions.
Running parallel to the Lear plot is that of Gloucester and his sons. Fra Fee is show-stealing as the illegitimate Edmund. Looking like a travelling musician, he perches chillingly at the piano, as if scoring his plans to defame his legitimate brother Edgar (Matthew Tennyson). The lengthy run time also allows for the love triangle between Edmund, Goneril and Regan to build and then implode in fits of lusty abandon.
Also in the mix is Lear’s Fool, who’s an unusually aged, sombre, omniscient presence in the hands of Clarke Peters.
This is not a Lear who is easy to sympathise with. Sapani is relatively young for the part, so there’s no sense of decrepit confusion in the bloodthirsty curses he hurls at his daughters. Still, from the moment he’s wheeled on in a chair, head lolling and mind scrambled, he’s every bit the betrayed and fallen tyrant you cannot help but pity.
This time, Farber’s moulding William Shakespeare’s cheery one about a king who orchestrates his own ruin by demanding verbal affirmations of adoration and backing the wrong horse – well, daughters.
It’s raised eyebrows for its three-and-a-half-hour run time, but this King Lear earns every second of it. And while it’s a story you’ll probably walk into the theatre knowing, it’s one you’ll leave feeling better acquainted with thanks to the space Farber’s brooding production gives even its minor characters to ruminate. Central to its success is Danny Sapani, whose titular king is imposing in stature, volatile in disposition and ultimately devastating in his downfall.
It plays out on a hard and unforgiving stage designed by Merle Hensel, who previously dressed the theatre’s Paul Mescal-starring A Streetcar Named Desire, and who gets Farber’s preference for misty, twilit spaces. Here, a curtain of chains hangs across the back wall and black grit lines the stage floor. Equally frigid are Camilla Dely’s costumes: a contemporary array of steely suits and earthy-toned maxi dresses. It’s horribly stylish; we’ve even got an Earl of Gloucester (Michael Gould) wearing a raincoat from the Danish brand Rains.