Lear with Maureen Beattie at Pitlochry Festival Theatre – review

In his introduction in the programme book, Alan Cumming, the new artistic director of Pitlochry Festival Theatre, observes that in the theatre’s 75 years of existence, this new Lear is only its eighth production of Shakespeare. In that case, it’s welcome back Will, and it says something that in the first year of his tenure, Cumming is keen to revitalise the established canon as well as to refresh with new work.

Of course, a skilled director finds fresh things in established plays too, and Finn den Hertog’s Lear feels energised and invigorating for all that its text is four centuries old. Part of that is giving the title role to Maureen Beattie. There’s nothing particularly new about having Lear played by a woman, of course, but den Hertog’s plan in doing so is to underline the idea that this is a play about a competition for love, and reminding us that this is a family falling apart alongside a nation.

He’s only partly successful in doing that: Beattie is very good, however; at her finest in the second half. Mad and crowned with flowers, she is extremely effective in evoking pathos for the fallen ruler, even more so in her reunion with Cordelia when, wearing pyjamas in a wheelchair, she can barely get the words out, so overcome is she with the aftermath of her ordeal.

The one thing that’s lacking is grandeur. She is less successful at evoking the fearful fall of a once-great leader, and much of the first half feels a bit shouty or ranting. Nor does it help that her bedraggled wig at the start of the storm scene adds an unintentionally comic note.

That’s a rare misfire in what is otherwise a tightly atmospheric production. Emma Bailey’s designs set the first half (up to the blinding of Gloucester) in a decaying interior, but open out to wide, unfeeling nature in the second, with only a branch and some blasted clumps of earth to witness the denouement of the tragedy.

Den Hertog demonstrates extraordinary skill in the direction of his actors, with countless little touches that deepen character. Nobody seems to know whether to take the love-test of act one seriously as the characters glance incredulously at one another, for example. In a foreshadowing of his blinding, Forbes Masson’s bumbling Gloucester can’t find his glasses as he reads Edmund’s forged letter and, later, there’s something clinically chilling about watching Regan (Lindsey Campbell) calmly lay out the torture chamber in advance of Gloucester’s blinding.

Dylan Read is a remarkable Edgar, and it’s gripping to watch him transform before your eyes into Poor Tom. In contrast, Reuben Joseph’s Edmund has an edge of sexy malice to his wickedness, and he plays marvellously off the evil sisters, Jenny Hulse (Goneril) and Campbell (Regan). Ailsa Davidson makes both a gleaming Cordelia and an acerbic Fool, and Mercy Ojelade plays Kent with energetic dignity.

Mark Melville’s hypnotic sound design quietly heightens the sense of claustrophobia, unstoppably closing in. Ultimately, fine as Beattie is in the title role, it’s as an ensemble achievement that this Lear is remarkable, and it’s a worthy vehicle for Shakespeare’s return to Pitlochry.