Melbourne-based Malthouse Theatre’s
90-minute version of
King Lear
is one of the very best free adaptations of a play I have seen.
Thoughtful, intelligent, sensitive and deft at every step, it shifts
the angle of the play a few degrees to a perspective of its own but
without traducing any element of the original. It is linguistically
agile, including a number of verbatim lines from Shakespeare but
largely paraphrasing it in a blend of English and the local Kriol (or
creole) of the Northern Australian Aborigines amongst whom this version
is set.
Here, Lear is the head of an Aboriginal family clan, once again
dividing his “kingdom” between his three daughters. Gloucester becomes
mother rather than father to her two sons, and all other characters are
excised apart from the Fool, who continues to speak truth to Lear but
also becomes our own storyteller and guide through the conceptual world
of this people. The driving idea here is one common to many indigenous
peoples of the world: that we are not the owners of the land, rather it
is of us. This is what Lear has lost touch with, which causes first his
folly then his madness, and it makes radiant sense as an interpretation
of the play.
The idea of re-telling
Lear
in this way is that of director Michael Kantor and lead actor Tom E.
Lewis who first found international fame playing the lead role in the
1978 film
The Chant Of Jimmie
Blacksmith. His Lear here is a force of nature: by turns
assured, defiant and as tempestuous as the storm through which he
wanders. Kamahi Djordon King as the Fool is at once audience-friendly
and a touch shamanic; it helps that the evening is shot through with
music, with a four-piece band accompanying both traditional chants and
rockier numbers (although the white guitarist really needs to have his
wah-wah pedal confiscated). Events are caught between traditional ideas
and the modern world, just like the action taking place on a stage with
red sand underfoot and a gigantic stylised road train as a backdrop.
Even half a world away it is a creation of both beauty and profundity.
Written for the Financial
Times.