DramaLit Blog 1.0: BU School of Theatre

The interpretation of Richard III at the Huntington brings quirky humor, an all male cast, and so much blood to Shakespeare’s story (according to an overheard remark from a cast member, 50 British pounds worth of stage blood per performance).  The acting is layered and masterful, and the concept is worthy.  Even the all male cast works in the sense that using men dressed in women’s clothing (but without wigs or female make-up) to play female roles creates a much stronger focus on the words and ideas rather than emotional content.  Yet, despite the drills through the eyes, the disembowelment, the chopping up of children, the finger bitten off and spit out on the stage– you don’t feel anything below the brain.  It is exciting and intellectually stimulating– clever, risky, a rethinking of the text through a masochistic lens.  For avid theater goers, those who have seen several versions of Richard III, it is something new.  What we lose in the buckets of blood, however ,is any sense of relationship, of pain, of pathos, of caring, of relating.  I readily joined in the standing ovation for the actors because their performances were astonishing and I was excited to have their work brought to Boston.  As I was standing I thought of my friend Terry Byrne, who I think writes the best theater reviews in Boston.  When she analyzes a play, she always starts with the relationships and works out from there.  In this version of Richard III, Shakespeare’s words felt like a series of beautifully delivered monologues strung together with over-the-top gore and violence, with no relationships at the center.  Without this center no emotion can spring, we can’t really care, and, at least for me, can’t feel the power of Shakespeare in there at all.