THE PLAYER KINGS

By Diana Simmonds

March 30 2025

THE PLAYER KINGS, Sport for Jove at the York Theatre, Seymour Centre, 29 March-5 April 2025. Photography by Brett Boardman - above: Steve Rodgers et al; below: Liam Gamble; below again: Gamble and a battle

That The Player Kings have been “much anticipated” is an understatement. When Damien Ryan, SfJ boss and Shakespeare’s man in Sydney, announced his plan to chop and splice the history plays, the collective gasp of excitement could be heard across the city and beyond.

And so: two times four hours with short intervals, and a two-hour dinner break for the “all day” Saturday performances, or Parts 1 and 2 on consecutive nights this coming week (a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it season, so don’t).

Entering the York theatre, there’s palpable excitement (and three separate tumbles on the precipitous staircases). Across the stage is an elegant, interesting set (design Kate Beere). On a platform, top right sits composer/musician Jack Mitsch with drums, keyboard and guitars. Below: a panorama of green lawns, paved courtyard, a grave on a hillock, a formal central staircase (no falls), and, at rear, a skeletal tower that becomes regal buildings and video screens. Lush woodland greenery is illuminated and different areas are bathed in golden light – plus a malevolent red tube and interrogative white lamps occasionally lowered from above (lighting Matt Cox).

Location, when, and what, are projected on the black back wall together with a digital clock counting down the 15-minute intervals: an achievement to get back to your seat as it hits “00:01” without breaking your neck. Costumes are another plus as the designers (Beere, Ruby Jenkins, and Lily Moody) signal the social and job status, and idiosyncrasies of each character. It’s a blessing and intelligent too because there are a lot of them and the actors take on multiple roles.

The day begins with Chapter One – Richard 2, some eighty years of English kings, and ends with Richard 3. In his program notes Ryan writes, “Shakespeare is not writing history, he is writing the eternal present.” That’s a clue to hold as the hours unfold: this history is terrifyingly now.

Richard (Seán O’Shea) is a flibbertigibbet, given to omens and superstition, his French queen Isabel (Katrina Retallick) is none of those but pregnancy evades her, although speaking Welsh as Lady Mortimer does not. Richard fears usurpation by his friend Henry Bolingbroke (Gareth Davies) and when Henry’s father, John of Gaunt (John Gaden) makes an unexpected and stirring speech the die is cast – not only for history but also the production as Gaden electrifies the audience as only he can.  Political turmoil and the red and white roses of Lancaster and York are not far behind – the motifs of the day/night.

As well as Shakespeare, each play begins with or contains a tongue-in-cheek reference to other times: Richard yearns to cleanse his conscience in Jerusalem, and here’s a punk duo howling “And did those feet, in ancient times…” Later, boy princes are meter-high puppets moved and voiced by an actor, instantly suggesting how the powerful can be manipulated.

These plays – all fratricide, matricide, patricide, and realm-ruining battles – are naturally heavy on the ultra-violence, more so when condensed. Unfortunately, as each bullet, sword thrust, or dagger stab is signaled by a drum whack, the cacophony is often extreme. As is the verbal hostility leading to each assassination. Consequently, there’s excessive bellowing, particularly from the less experienced (stage) actors. Twiddling with the volume would be helpful – again, apparent among the less experienced who don’t have the trained vocal carrying capacity nor diction necessary to make Shakespeare audible around the (difficult) space.

Nevertheless, when Steve Rodgers arrives as Falstaff with a prosthetic belly to rival Clive Palmer’s real one, it’s impossible not to be captivated. Same again later when he dons the hi-vis jacket and megaphone (never shutting up) of Jack Cade of Rebellion fame. Christopher Stollery too, is a wondrously distinct presence as Northumberland, John Talbot, Hume, Older Edward of York, and King Edward 4! Emma Palmer is particularly effective as Doll Tearsheet and Margaret of Anjou. Marty Alix and Andrew Cutcliffe are sexily excellent across a panoply of soldiers and nobles, while Peter Carroll is the sonorously beloved Peter Carroll. The Ryan scions Oliver and Max have listened to Dad in taking on between them a dozen young bloods. Leilani Loau wields an expressive walking stick as Eleanor of York; and Lulu Howes and Ruby Henaway strongly bracket much of the action in a range of roles, male and female.

Finally, although he’s been a notable presence from the beginning as Scroop, and in the middle as Pistol, Liam Gamble blows the place to kingdom come, as Richard III. He’s simply extraordinary, and it has little to do with the cerebral palsy with which he was born. Yes, he limps and has an irregular arm, but he also has the talent, nerve, and wit to fashion a charming, hopeful, and sweet suitor of a man who’s just murdered his intended’s husband. Essentially, this Richard is irresistible even though we have witnessed what he’s done to fill England’s noble graveyards.

Flaws’n’all, The Player Kings is gripping, illuminating and one hell of an achievement for adapter/director Damien Ryan and all concerned.