“RICHARD III” AT SHAKESPEARE THEATRE: Something else I saw last week. Not an especially coherent production. I’m not sure what it was trying to do that would distinguish it from the other RIII productions one might have seen (most notably the excellent Ian McKellen movie–although why does he always make the same gesture–hitting his knee with his fist–in practically every movie where he appears??).

This production used the same modern/fascist setting as the McKellen movie, which is starting to get kind of played. At first, modernizing the setting is powerful: Five hundred years on, and we are no more gentle than in Richard’s day. But once you’ve seen a bunch of fascist-Shakespeare it starts being silly and alienating. The sets are quite sterile, and I very much liked the device of dressing one set of murderers in hospital scrubs; that captures the utilitarian kill-to-be-kind ethos nicely, though what it had to do with “Richard III” I couldn’t tell you.

The production takes what I think were probably unwise risks: It doesn’t do much with the initial monologue (“Now is the winter of our discontent…”), with the “Shine out, fair sun, ’til I have bought a glass” speech, or even with Richard’s seduction of Lady Anne over the coffin of her husband (murdered at Richard’s hand). Lady Anne is basically portrayed as suffering from battered woman’s syndrome, so purely terrified by Richard that she has lost the ability to say no. This is not especially interesting. Later, the scene in which Richard persuades the former queen Elizabeth that he wishes to win her daughter is played the way the Richard/Anne scene is often played: The more extreme and cruel Richard’s language gets, the more seduced and bewildered Elizabeth becomes. She’s attracted by his willingness to go all out for evil. This is more interesting, but this scene comes much further toward the end of the play, which is doubtless why most directors use this dynamic for Richard/Anne rather than Richard/Elizabeth.

The actors set up an intriguing parallel between Margaret and Hastings–I wouldn’t have thought to place those two together. But both are clearly thrilled by the misfortunes that befall their enemies. Hastings is played by David Sabin, who has a moment that’s both totally endearing and chilling: Contemplating the murders of his political enemies, he gets the beaming innocent look of a well-fed baby, and actually puts out his tongue like a happy dog as he giggles a little to himself. And the production definitely sets up Margaret as the only worthy opponent Richard recognizes. When they face off, you can feel his discomfort at coming up against someone whose fury and singleness of purpose match his own. The parallel is reinforced in Margaret’s crouching posture throughout their first big scene, mirroring Richard’s hunchback. Margaret, like Richard, is purely negative; suffering; ferocious; self-aware; and self-dramatizing.

The curdled-Christian atmosphere of the court is drawn out well, with frequent, almost obsessive references to piety, humility, conscience (there’s an early exchange between murderers that echoes Richard’s famous line, “Conscience is but a word that cowards use”), and especially pity.