Whose Richard? Which Richard? Richard My Richard @ Theatre Royal Bury St Edmunds
Richard III (a terrific Kyle Rowe) is back — alive and kicking, though he can’t feel his feet or remember everything. Emerging from the grave to confront History (an embodied person!) he’s confused, bemused and enraged to discover that he’s been buried without honour, in disgrace, and his name and actions publicly besmirched. He doesn’t understand why he’s been remembered in such ways (as he’s a beefcake warrior, not a deformed horror), and particularly why his Queen Anne Neville has almost been erased from history. And why people seem to think he did certain things, especially to his nephews, and to him, it’s just logical that ofcourse he wants his war horse!
Persuading History (Tom Kanji) to re-run his life, events end up being considered and rewritten — although as everyone is called Henry, Anne, Elizabeth, Edward and Richard, it can all get a bit much. Hooray for George, Duke of Clarence just for rocking the boat of similar names. Although, in a nice aside, we learn that some of the Edwards and Richards were due to brothers naming sons in memory of and out of love for each other. This may be reflected in the occurrence of these popular names — individuals were being remembered and honoured.
The past truly is another country. We’re in a power hungry elite, where literally everyone just can’t wait to be king with an heir or Queen and mother of the heir. Only this is a strange time where there is more than one king and more than one heir, and they’re fighting each other for legitimacy, control, the throne, succession, to be the king. It’s also a toxic family as people are intimately connected loathe each other and who have indeed seen their fathers, brothers and husbands killed by those same tightly related family members. This is done in a funny family tree moment.
It’s also a unique moment — there are three powerful and power-hungry York brothers, who have been raised by their father to be killing machines from birth — and they’re very good at power and killing. Enough to kill a king, and on occasion, each other. Richard’s faith really matters — he lives a life of chivalry and uprightness, he’s also a legal hero — abolishing serfdom and re-establishing fair rule of law for all, his social behaviour (public and private) really matters. Albeit that he hero worships his brother Edward, leading to some difficult situations — such as what to do with the previous (still living) king, or a duplicitous brother.
It was fascinating how the personal mottos were integrated into the story, reflecting their character and values. I.e. Richard’s loyalty binds me was literal. However, it was also about belief — and Elizabeth Woodville was the villain here, along with the conniving weasley Stanleys — and to an extent, imperiously sweeping Margaret Beaufort (Laura Smithers). Not only was she vengeful, but Elizabeth Woodville (Jennifer Matter) was portrayed as a real-life witch, worthy of all of James I’s fears. Her unnatural powers could be used to influence battles and the weather in the Yorkist favour, but also to persecute Richard, Anne and their son, and George and his wife and son. Seen as an evil, controlling counsellor and influence, she needed to be taken down — and Richard was the person to do it. For if her boyish, mewling prince became king — who really would be doing the ruling? Although, for politcks sake, they would end up as friends and allies. The production also has no time for Henry Tudor who is shown as a Shakespearean spouting boyish fool, and the butt of a historical joke being ‘‘one thirty-two-th” royal.
Edward (Matt Cocannon) and Anne Neville (Tori Burgess) were both power protecting in ruthless (and heartless ways). Edward would kill a treasonous brother to protect his wife and sons, or a holy simple-hearted king, just to protect his power and right to rule. Anne, fearing for her own son and her own life, wanted Richard to move against Elizabeth Woodville and kill her sons (under Richard’s protective lordship in the royal palace, the Tower of London). None of them were above political spin — such as Richard appearing to court his niece to cuckold and dishonour the usurping Henry Tudor. Intriguingly Richard does not judge them for it — it’s just how things were, and ofcourse Anne would, she was raised to be a Queen, the mother of Kings.
What did Richard do? Not what we think, though someone clearly (in this Philippa Gregory version) took the Princes to use them as a powerplay. Princess Elizabeth (Mary Savage) is my favourite character — full of pride, passion and intelligence, in a brilliant stand-off with her future mother-in-law. She is aware that she is being used both by Richard and Anne Neville for their own political advantage. As Richard observes, women only act submissively when people are watching — they are just as power hungry, intelligence, strategic, status contending and honour driven as their men. Richard does a nice line in historical debunking throughout — and is, in the end, buried with honour, with white roses on his ‘grave’. As he points out, we’ve lost the context and often the names — Bosworth is actually Redermore, and some events aren’t recorded or lose their meaning — such as whether blue mourning clothes should be worn to court by the sister and daughter of your family’s killers. Awkward.
Brilliantly styled, Bosworth is conveyed with heaps of energy through crosses and flags, and some armour. Through the use of surcoats, we get a sense of the sweeping gowns of the time, and how fashion was being used to reflect prestige and status. The men also have the extreme bowl hair cuts of an earlier time to suggest military fighters; although making Edward bald is a mistake as he famously had luxuriant blonde locks. Perhaps we’re just not ready for the tight hose, short coats, male gowns and pointy shoes of the time. The round stage also allows for a sense of ceremony to be conveyed and scheming machinations. Lower classes appear wearing deep hoods, which is a brilliant conceit, and also double up as priestly classes to create the religious temperature of the times. Although there is dramatic licence here, I love how these people are not like us — in their manners and actions, the past truly is compelling different country.
