‘Richard II’ Review: Jonathan Bailey Shows Off His Shakespearean Chops in a Stern, Stripped-Down Production

“Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.” OK, that’s the wrong play since it’s a line from “Macbeth,” but it best sums up Jonathan Bailey’s performance in the new London production of “Richard II”: The actor cranks up several gears the moment his character is forced by usurper Henry Bullingbrook to give up the throne of England for a life of imprisonment in the second half of director Nicholas Hytner’s staging of Shakespeare’s history play. But the fact that Bailey takes time to catch fire is not entirely his fault, since neither Shakespeare nor Hytner make life easy for him. 

Given that the play is set at the close of the 14th century, it’s no surprise that Hytner believes the play, which depicts the ushering in of a nation’s decades-long succession crisis, needs contemporary reference points. That explains composer Grant Olding’s doom-laden, grinding, low strings that herald a driving rhythm and a light-touch, bitter piano melody opening the production, a clear hat-tip to Nicholas Britell’s Beethoven-tinged theme to “Succession.” It also governs Bob Crowley’s crisp men-in-black-suits design. 

The antithesis of the exuberantly colored “Guys and Dolls,” the last show to play at Hytner’s physically versatile Bridge Theatre (and which ran almost two years), this limited run of “Richard II” is stripped-down and stern. 

Gone is the expected heraldry and splendor of the English court in which King Richard traditionally basks. Instead, the audience is arranged in the round observing a traverse-style black runway staging with changing, minimal locations being lifted up through the floor on hydraulics. It makes for welcome fluidity, highly useful in a play that, for the first half at least, moves through an uncomfortable number of locations and a load of exposition.

This is a story about the threat to the kingdom and, specifically, Richard, who ruled neither wisely nor well with absolute power by ancient Divine Right. The nation is torn apart by the plots and counterplots of men and their forces loyal to the crown and those backing Henry Bullingbrook, the Duke of Hereford who, successfully as it turns out, puts his eyes on the ultimate prize and steals it.

That the tussle for dominance between the men is so potentially dramatic is illustrated by the fact that around fifty years ago, Richard Pasco and Ian Richardson, two leading Shakespeareans of their day, alternated the roles when they led the play in a celebrated RSC production. Here, alas, the balance is uneven. Royce Pierreson is nicely forthright and determined but his performance is unvarying. The wonderfully character-driven abdication scene between the two men is the production’s highpoint, but elsewhere Pierreson’s determination is too one-note. 

Anyone questioning the wisdom of the star-casting of “Bridgerton” and “Wicked” talent Bailey should bear in mind that he played Cassio in Hytner’s riveting “Othello” at the National Theatre back in 2013 and followed that with an arresting Edgar/Mad Tom opposite Ian McKellen’s King Lear for director Jonathan Munby. As a result, his handling of the language and, crucially, the intent behind it, is entirely easeful. His king is self-satisfied and perfectly petulant, dispatching orders, and often men’s lives, with gleaming disdain. He’s even better when he’s calmly and quietly coming to understand himself and the nature of his previous selfishness in the play’s highly reflective and tender final scenes.

But between those extremes of temperament, the living center of the character remains unseen, robbing the production of strength. That’s partly because he has to energize scenes that here lack force. Hytner is unquestionably one of the great directors of Shakespeare, but this production is uncharacteristically undercast in places. Some of the acting proves more proficient than powerful.

There are notable exceptions, especially Michael Simkins who plays Richard’s uncle, the Duke of York, with a deliciously light touch. It’s the unflashiest of roles, an entirely dependable man who serves the kingdom dutifully. But, while never overplaying it, Simkins uses dry wit to gently undercut his character’s routine pronouncements. And the late comic scenes — in which he and his wife (amusingly desperate Amanda Root) are torn between loyalty to his plotting son and the crown — glow with life.

“Richard II” is always going to be a slow-burn play of ideas. Hytner and Bailey ensure that the destination — Richard’s self-reflection and wider understanding of the world — is ultimately worthwhile. But for all the clarity and momentum of the presentation, the journey lacks galvanizing passion.

More from Variety

Best of Variety

Sign up for Variety's Newsletter. For the latest news, follow us on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram.