By Bart Greenberg****In the currently running Wars of the Roses, a mash up of William Shakespeare’s Henry VI Part 3 and Richard III, conceived, edited and directed by Austin Pendleton and Peter Bloch, the “crookback” king is presented as a neurotic daddy’s boy taking little pleasure in his schemes and devices to secure the throne, and with absolutely no interest in the women he woos for power alone. Not that he is gay (neither the outlandish queen of Richard Dreyfuss nor the subtler bisexual seducer of Ian McKellen); the most accurate description of the not unattractive Matt de Rogatis in the role is asexual. Nothing seems to thrill this Richard as he descends into madness, even as he falls into a bad James Cagney imitation, shooting directions to his collection of assassins and conspirators out of the side of his mouth—all the while emphasizing his body deformities until he resembles Marty Feldman’s comical Igor in Young Frankenstein.
The production is presented in a form of modern dress, resulting in a great deal of dull black clothing with some slashes of color that suggest nothing in particular, as well as a few very ill-fitting outfits. Not only does this costuming trample on the passion and class consciousness of the play, but it leads to a certain degree of confusion with actors portraying two and three characters. Some odd late-in-the-play eye makeup seems inappropriate for the rehearsal hall ambiance and the use of metal folding chairs proved both awkward and noisy for the actors to manipulate.
Yet, there were some bright spots during the almost three-hour running time (with one intermission). Director Pendleton also served as Henry VI. In the highly trimmed script, this role amounted to a cameo, but the actor delivered his major soliloquy with quiet passion and poetry, highly suitable for a classical performance. Pete McElligott, as Richard’s betrayed brother Clarence, brings a casual authority to his good old frat boy interpretation of the role; his bargaining for his life with two assassins, John Constantine and Milton Elliott, was indeed a highlight of the program, though it belonged in a far more contemporary production in contrast to Pendleton’s portrayal of delicacy and de Rogatis’ brooding interpretation. Johanna Leister brought life, wit and class to her role of Elizabeth, widow, queen and powerful foe of Richard.
Presumably, Pendleton is responsible for the heavy editing of the text, leading to a good deal of confused story-telling and a diminishing of the drama. The first twenty minutes consists of various characters running off and on stage, announcing their relationships and conflicts, without giving the audience a chance to sort them out or to be drawn into the story. At the other end of the show, the last scenes have been eliminated, leaving a very abrupt stop, rather than any form of resolution. Even Richard’s famous “winter of our discontent” speech has been eliminated, leaving the audience discontented instead.
The Wars of the Roses runs through August 19 at 124 Bank Street, New York City. Tickets can be purchased via BrownPaperTickets.com for $25.
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