Theatre Sub-Editor AUDREY LAU talks reimaginings, revivals, and Dan Edge’s production of Richard III at the Bridewell Theatre.
A new wave of reimaginings, revivals and reversals has taken centre stage.
Last May, I had the privilege of watching a modernised reimagining of William Shakespeare’s Richard III, directed by the UCL Student Union’s very own Dan Edge at the Bridewell Theatre. Warring families became cabinet members. A war became an election. Sam Sugarman’s portrayal of Richard could be likened to a caricature of Boris Johnson. Large screens blaring news headlines punctuated every story beat (with a rather cleverly recognisable design). In his director’s brief, Edge writes that he wished to provide “an insight into the brilliance of Shakespeare, through a more accessible lens, an old story told in a new way”.
Edge’s Richard III is one of many recent reinterpretations of Shakespeare’s acclaimed repertoire. Another notable recent example would be Coriolanus, directed by Lyndsey Turner, which has just finished its run at the National Theatre. When we re-interpret, what is the real goal? A sense of rejuvenation; the injection of life; and, at times, a pleasant splash of modernity into older, historically significant pieces. A key point, too, is accessibility—sometimes the grounding of a play in modernity can make it more palatable for those who struggle to understand the unfiltered language of the Bard himself. The very meaning of the word “interpret”—to “perform in a way that conveys one’s understanding of the creator’s ideas”—suggests a new form of communication.
But by virtue of us picking and choosing which themes to emphasise and which to eschew, we must stop to consider what is lost in translation.
Richard III, as character, has been subject to many recent conversations surrounding his validity as disability representation. In Edge’s production, as in many others, Richard’s disability is not noted. This is despite the preservation of the script wherein Richard openly references his disability, and his ‘hunch’d back’, referring to himself as:
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, / Deformed, unfinished, sent before my time / Into this breathing world scarce half made up (Act 1, Scene 1, 18-21).
Post-parking lot discovery (the staff car park of Leicester City Council Social Services), it’s discovered that Richard was not this monstrous, hulking creature (as per Shakespeare’s description). The curvature in his spine indicated a severe case of scoliosis, though not so severe that he walked with a limp (as per Shakespeare’s description). According to academics at the University of Leicester, his leg bones were “symmetrical and well formed”. Literary researchers across the country agree that Shakespeare’s interpretation of Richard as severely impaired by his disability was an attempt to emphasise his crooked, evil nature. Barring Richard’s Shakespeare-specific disability, Edge’s own treatment of the play was rather liberal; quite in fashion with most modern retellings.
We’re constantly looking for a new point to make. We long for some kind of epiphany to burst forth within the minds of the average theatregoer. New ideas and new eyes. What does this say about the way we treat the “sacred” texts? This isn’t to say that we should stick purely to directing reimagined productions in a period-accurate way. A strength of reinterpreting a classic is the ability to draw in new audiences and provide insight into existing storylines. If anything, a reimagining should only be considered a successful tribute to its original if it can stand on its own. Reimagining and recreating are, after all, two different things.
Perhaps something like the acclaimed film of West Side Story (1962) proves more value to the canon than yet another stage adaptation where Romeo and Juliet are simply played by two celebrities.
Romeo and Juliet…but stage it with two modern teenagers. And Juliet’s bed is suspended in the air. Hamlet…but stage it with the perspective of two minor characters who deal with the concept of fate vs. free will. The Taming of the Shrew…but stage it with a couple who are putting on a production of The Taming of the Shrew (whose marital disagreements embody the main conflict of The Taming of the Shrew). It’s all rather meta, you see.
Featured image: Engraving by James Neagle after Thomas Stothard, The Duke of Clarence is assailed by demons and taunted by a blood-soaked angel in a dream; an episode in Shakespeare’s Richard III, 1804, courtesy of Wellcome Collection.
