A King Lear Reviews 'King Lear'

(The Carnovsky-Fletcher "King Lear" was first presented by the Connecticut Stratfordians in 1963. With some changes in the supporting cast, the production has been remounted, and will play in repertory through Sept. 11. Because of the extraordinary interest in this show, three additional performances have been announced to supplement those originally scheduled: August 12, 19, and 26 at 8 p.m. Since I discussed this production at great length in these pages two years ago, it seemed worthwhile this time around to request an evaluation from a person who has himself played the role of Lear. Harold R. Scott '57, an award-winning actor well known in New York and abroad, played Lear professionally to high acclaim at the age of 22--thus following the lead of Britain's famed William Devlin, who first played the role at the same age. Mr. Scott, who was a drama critic for the Summer News in 1959, has recently been playing the leading role in "A Raisin in the Sun" and will appear in Albee's "Tiny Alice" this month--C.T.)

For its fourth and final offering of the season, the American Shakespeare Festival has come up with its first revival of a production: the Morris Carnovsky-Allen Fletcher concept of King Lear.

It is bold, majestic, powerful, and impressive--but curiously unmoving. And one wonders why.

Mr. Carnovsky has certainly deepened his Lear, not only conceptually but also through lovely nuances of acting and timing and some strangely effective gestures and line-readings--such as his tapping of his crazed skull when he asks poor Tom o' Bedlam (who by now has become his "philosopher"), "What is the cause of thunder?" (Act III, Scene 4), thereby linking quite appropriately the storm on the heath and the storm in his tormented mind.

The supporting cast is infinitely better than that of the original production. Patrick Hines has made enormous strides with his Gloucester. Patricia Hamilton (Goneril) and Mary Hara (Regan) are a vast improvement over their predecessors. And--though I loathe comparisons--Richard Mathews surpasses Lester Rawlins, whom I considered the finest Fool I had ever seen. Not only has Mr. Mathews managed to make clear every pun, analogy, and double entente, but he has added to the character an element of such deep love that one can almost feel his own pain as he chastises, scolds, and warns his master.

Even Mr. Fletcher's direction is more definite and fluid. And there is a uniformity of acting style and speech that gives one the feeling of hope that Stratford is once again on the road to having a real company.

Where, then, is the problem? Why are we left untouched by this great man's monumental destruction?

The fault seems to lie with Mr. Carnovsky. For some reason he feels compelled to play much of his madness for comedy. Perhaps he believes that the play needs more comic relief. If so, that certainly is not the place for it.

To get huge laughs on such lines as "Let copulation thrive;" "Ha! Goneril, with a white beard!" (to Gloucester), and "Let me wipe it (my hand) first; it smells of mortality." is difficult to imagine, but Mr. Carnovsky accomplishes it. And he thereby undermines the dignity, stature, and power he works so hard to establish in the early parts of the play and achieves right from Act I, Scene I--which any actor who has tackled the role will tell you is almost unplayable for credibility.

Mr. Carnovsky does, however, pull off this opening scene magnificently. Why, then, reduce himself to a truly "foolish fond old man" who staggers aimlessly about the heath as though he were saying, "Well, lousy daughters run you crazy. What can you do?" And this attitude carries over even into the mock trial, which is busy, unfocussed, and unbelievable.

In short, Mr. Carnovsky has for some reason failed to realize that a man who is driven out of his wits by anger and frustration does not go loony; he goes mad! As it is, the character fails to grow, fails to come to grips with his own follies and errors, and--worst of all--fails to learn humility, which is what makes one willing to believe that Lear is truly "a man more sinn'd against than sinning" (a line, by the way, that Mr. Carnovsky feels obliged to repeat).

This failure is most blatantly apparent when he asks to stay out in the storm to pray before withdrawing to the hovel, and then remains standing through the prayer--which is one of the most self-revealing and humble speeches Lear has. Mr. Carnovsky's standing somehow kills the humility and adds a touch of defiance, which is compounded by his choosing to kneel once the prayer is over.

Mr. Carnovsky has the elements of a truly great Lear--in his intellect, in his instrument, and in his artistry. But in his first production I felt his mad scenes were not mad at all; now they are merely loony. And by choosing to play the madness for so many of its comic values, he has to his own detriment prevented the possibility of his Lear's rising to tragic or classic proportions.

At the final curtain we are left unmoved, untouched, and merely impressed by the technical power and personal magnetism of a great actor who got through a part that has so wrongly been labeled unactable. The tragedy is that Mr. Carnovsky's miss is such a near one.