FIVE STARS

The first thing to say about David Tennant’s brilliant turn as the Royal Shakespeare Company’s latest Richard II is that he doesn’t speak with his native Scottish burr, as he has in a number of Shakespearian roles in the past. What was judged acceptable for his work as Touchstone, Berowne and Benedick was presumably considered not quite the thing for an English king (or, indeed, for his Danish prince of 2008).

Since this superb production is directed by Gregory Doran, the RSC’s artistic director, one might hope that it signals a departure from the company’s regular practice in recent years of expecting its audiences to be accent deaf as well as colour blind, which this regular occupant of the stalls, at least, has found a little distracting.

Richard II is notoriously a play in which not much happens, with no passionate love scenes, no battles and what looks to be a promising fight to the death between Mowbray (Antony Byrne) and Bolingbroke (Nigel Lindsay) nipped in the bud by the king’s sudden decision to banish them both.

The background to their dispute is eloquently established by Doran during a prelude in which we see the funeral rites of the Duke of Gloucester, who has been murdered with the sanction (unacknowledged) of his nephew, the king. His grieving widow (Jane Lapotaire) weeps over Gloucester’s coffin amid soaring cathedral stonework (designs Stephen Brimson Lewis) while singers and trumpeters above waft him towards his maker (Paul Englishby’s music is an impressive feature of this production throughout).

Richard’s contemptuous attitude to Mowbray, who has more than an inkling where responsibility lies for the duke’s demise, contrasts with his much more favourable view of Bolingbroke. After pleas from his uncle John of Gaunt (Michael Pennington, in a beautifully spoken performance), his period of exile is even reduced from ten to six years.

Richard’s mistake in permitting exile at all becomes obvious when he provokes the thuggish Bolingbroke by seizing Gaunt’s property after his death. The treasure chests are seen being borne away by his agents. Back to England comes Bolingbroke to fight for his family’s rights — and, of greater moment, for the throne, as Henry IV.

In this depiction of a king undone through his own stupidity and vanity, Tennant supplies what is surely his best stage performance yet. With his Pre-Raphaelite, Christ-like flowing locks , gorgeous finery and flowery phrases tripping beautifully from his tongue, he shows us the ultimate in self-regard.

Camply captivated by the preening male members of his court, his atten-tions are lavished particularly on Oliver Rix’s Duke of Aumerle. His eventual act of betrayal lends an especially sombre tone as the play moves towards its close, reminding us, as Wilde said, that each man kills the thing he loves.

 

Until Nov 16 at Royal Shakespeare Theatre (0844 800 1110, rsc.org.uk). Dec 9-Jan 25 at the Barbican, London
The production will be broadcast live to cinemas across the UK on Nov 13