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Stacy Keach as King Lear (courtesy Shakespeare Theatre Company).
The scheming, backbiting, and in one case, suspiciously Paris Hilton-esque (chihuahua included) sisters Goneril and Regan manage to do the unlikely: turn the epic solemnity of King Lear into riveting, train-wreck theater. These women chain smoke and cackle, strut around in fur coats and sequins, and get graphically pleasured onstage by their boy toys. Director Robert Falls, whether he's livening up Lear's ceremonial division of his kingdom with a rapping DJ or having his actors throwing ripped out eyeballs into a stock pot, has definitely put together a Lear unlike one you've ever seen.
It's also a Lear with a bit of an identity crisis. The made-for-Bravo undertones of the Shakespeare Theatre Company production are frequently dominant, but it's not the only vibe Falls is playing around with. His Lear is almost strangely comedic at first; the king's famous decline into madness is played much more for zany laughs than as a disturbing decent. Those unfamiliar with the work might find themselves headed towards intermission wondering why, exactly, this play is considered first and foremost a tragedy.
They won't have to wait long to find out. Act II, by contrast, is an assaulting bloodbath, with the jarring sight of a naked, bruised and broken Cordelia, multiple hard-to-watch strangulation scenes and gushing, red blood rapidly coating the costumes of the more unfortunate characters.
What this Lear lacks in cohesiveness, it more than compensates for with its unexpected turns and unforgettable imagery, not to mention masterful performances. As Lear, Stacy Keach, seen most recently here in the touring production of Frost/Nixon, is uncannily charming and threateningly mercurial. He may be almost jubilant in his madness, but he's also fully committed to it - he's as at home in his homeless man rags as he is in a crown or a power suit.
Lear's the leading man here, but you can't forget about those devilish housewives. The husky-voiced Kim Martin-Cotten is the power player of the two, disdaining her husband, running caustically through suitors and desperately, unwisely falling for her contemporary, the bloodthirsty Edmund (Jonno Roberts, gleefully sadistic). Kate Arrington's Regan is the careless party child, swilling, smoking and sniffing alongside her posse of bad boys. They're worlds apart from Laura Odeh's austere, self-possessed Cordelia, the woefully wronged daughter. And like most of reality television's anti-heroes, they're the ones you'll be gossiping about the next day at the water cooler.
King Lear runs through July 19 at the Harman Center. Tickets are available online.
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I saw Stacy Keach at the P Street Whole Foods this Saturday. He definitely had the batshit insane look down to a T.