Of all Shakespeare’s plays, this is the one that right now feels most topical, portraying a country in the grip of an identity crisis.
It depicts conflicting ideas of the national interest, focusing on self-defeating leadership and the politics of opportunism. Here, for extra resonance, it’s performed by a cast consisting entirely of women of colour — a first for a Shakespeare play on a major UK stage.
In the lead, Adjoa Andoh offers an unusually passionate take on a monarch who tends to be seen as indecisive and wasteful. Rather than making Richard a dreamer unable to carry out his responsibilities, Andoh’s a more forceful sort of king — sometimes petulant, but never camp.
‘Hé,’ she repeatedly exclaims as she shrugs aside the sycophants who cluster round her, and her brusqueness often turns into bullying.
Yet there are moments when she’s measured, and as Richard at last reveals his humanity Andoh’s interpretation is courageously raw. She shares directing credits with Lynette Linton, and instead of wrapping the action in highly elaborate ceremony they’ve chosen to emphasise the rhythms of family life.
Rajha Shakiry’s design frames the set with bamboo, hinting at the characters’ sturdy roots, and photos of the cast’s ancestors stare down suggestively from the upper gallery.
Alongside Andoh, Sarah Niles is a strikingly pragmatic Bolingbroke, and Doña Croll’s soulful John of Gaunt gets one of the few big laughs when lamenting England’s ‘shameful conquest of itself’.
The Brexit parallels are occasionally laboured, and some scenes don’t have a strong enough sense of texture. But this is an accessible, lucid account of one of Shakespeare’s least earthy, most archaic plays, and the casting raises timely questions about who controls the levers of power.
Until April 21 (020 7401 9919, shakespearesglobe.com)
