THE MADNESS OF RICHARD III

RICHARD III

By William Shakespeare

Directed by Dan Sussner '99

Produced by Patrick Aquino

Adams House Pool Theater

October 29-31

In a theatrical climate where fresh ideas are seared by the tongues of bitter critics and innovative productions parched by financial drought, college theatre is a small oasis of low stakes and adequate resources. Sprung from this land, Dan Sussner '99's Richard III is college theater as it was meant to be: ambitious, edgy and most importantly, experimental. Realizing his freedom from the constraints of profit and acclaim, Sussner seizes the rare opportunity to give free reign to his ideas. Though the resulting product is rough and at times obtuse, it has a degree of innovation one hopes to see more of in campus productions. The degree of experimentation in last weekend's production must have been a strain on the cast, but their overall willingness to aid in the testing of theatrical boundaries provided an unusual look at Richard III and its limitations.

Long the victim of radical altercation, time has proven Shakespeare especially receptive to changes in setting and order. Last weekend's Richard III is unusual in that both aspects were changed--not only was it produced backwards, it was produced backwards in an insane asylum. While the viability of both changes is suggested by the text itself, their simultaneous implementation is a very bold move. The historical Richard III was the deserving subject of horror stories for a good century prior to Shakespeare's dramatization, and undoubtedly, this is the same story, with all the murder, intrigue and back-stabbing that suggests.

Rather than the famous "Now is the winter of our discontent...," Sussner's production begins with a creepy gothic soundtrack and a series of strobe-lighted pantomimes predicting (in reverse order) the murders that lead to Richard's kingly demise. Though the twisted, dehumanizing feel of the play is well captured by this unsettling preview, its final effect is desensitizing. Rather than beginning (as Shakespeare does) with a group of characters whose humanity is undermined as the play progresses, the humanity of Sussner's cast is defaced from the very start. Though David Egan '00 (Richard) and the other cast members work hard to reclaim the dimensionality of their roles, the reappearance of the strobe makes this a hard battle to win. While their lines seem to be well-delivered, the meaning is often obscured by the confusion of the backwards plot or the intrusion of the awkward stage design.

Sussner originally got the idea of producing Richard III backwards after noticing Richard's obsession with time (he always seems to be asking "what o'clock is it?"). The idea of setting Richard in the insane asylum came later, inspired by the Halloween weekend production dates. Though the two ideas should theoretically work together (What better way to make a man obsessed with time mad than by reversing time's direction?), implementing them was too unwieldy to be well-executed. The ambitiousness of the project exacted a heavy toll on the production quality, creating confusion in both the staging and the set design. As with much of the production, the design suggested a wealth of ideas and inspiration, but very little selectivity on the part of the designers as to which of these ideas to develop and refine. Though it was interesting to see a brainstorm in the flesh, this production angle did little to clarify the complicated intricacies of the text.

In its original form, Richard III is essentially a play about a man killing his way to the throne and then being killed himself by the rival claimants. The way each character rises up in life before being assasinated creates the tragedy that makes the play a great work. It is entrancing to watch the plot tighten around the characters, made easy targets by their incapacity to fathom the extent of Richard's evil.

In spite of some conceptual similarities, the insane asylum setting is difficult to reconcile with the medieval English court. With the House of York represented by patients and that of Lancaster by the doctors and nurses, the actors were saddled not only with the complexities of their original roles, but also with their roles in the medical hierarchy.

The young princes (and designated heirs) that Richard murders have an important role in the original production and probably suffer the most under the asylum theme. The boy's parts are played by a small plastic doll and "the boxing nun." The replacement of two rather essential roles becomes an annoyance as the play progresses.

The replacement and elimination of the human is a theme in Shakespeare's text that is preserved in Sussner's production. The Shakespearean version is great because it describes the anatomy of the takeover, and by doing so, maps the topology of death. By reversing the order, Sussner obscures the tragedy of death and leaves murder. Characters are killed before they speak so that their role in the play always seems an afterthought.. If this review has given little mention to the acting, it is because the acting is overshadowed by a radicalizing interpretation. Though Egan's well-spoken plottings, Queen Ann's lamentations and Queen Margret's prophecy would occasionally break through, it does not do so often enough.

In the end (beginning?) it seems that Sussner has followed the process that also sustained Shakespeare throughout his career. Leaving much of the play behind, he has taken the story of Richard III and created something different. With any luck, this experiment will lead to others: refinements of earlier stories with a grace of their own.