Nowhere is the adage “comedy is tragedy plus time” truer than James Goldman’s The Lion in Winter. This classic opened Friday at the Columbus Performing Arts Center from SRO in association with Warehouse Theatre in a production that more than does it justice, directed by Kristoffer Green.
This inverted King Lear rooted in history focuses on the Christmas of 1183 when King Henry II (Aaron Sinclair) and his mistress Alais (Grace Rinehart) welcome home his sons Richard the Lionheart (Justin King), John (Tom Murdock), and Geoffrey (Jordan Shear) along with his Queen, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Joyce Leahy), let out of prison for the holiday, and the newly installed King of France, Philip (Samuel Bowen Partridge). France’s king has come to demand a deal be honored, Alais marry Richard to cement the two countries or be given back the small but strategically vital county of the Vexen. Richard and John both angle for being named Henry’s successor in the wake of his first-born dying earlier that year.
The Lion in Winter understands the historical content it plays with. It uses the audience’s knowledge that both Richard and John eventually become king and how those reigns ended and shaped Western civilization but in a light, winking way. It gets the almost-mythic resonance this historical moment lends to, sadly, whatever the political climate of the time is when we choose to revive it, but it doesn’t require any of that. Instead, the play uses that backdrop to present a higher-stakes version of the traditional ritual of ripping off scabs most families indulge in every holiday. Green’s breakneck pacing and use of staging where the audience sits on two sides of the action like spectators at a sporting event, plays up the modern feel and immediacy that still make this play fresh and while it’s still long, almost three hours with an intermission, that time flew here.
The three sons walk a precarious balancing act between archetype and stereotype. Acquitting himself best at that is Justin King’s Richard who strikes the perfect balance between calloused-over vulnerability and strength. It’s fascinating to watch what’s already a canny strategic mind and steely strength trip up on the unchecked passions of a still-young man. I found Murdock’s John more problematic, while very funny, he sometimes leans on slapstick like a crutch, I missed the pathos that character needs for ballast. Shear’s Geoffrey drifts into cartoon-Iago territory at times but is marvelous when everything’s clicking. Partridge’s Philip shines when he plays off Richard and Henry, managing to embody potential and generations of greivance in a deliciously slithery package.
Goldman’s take on Eleanor is one of the great stage characters and it’s hard to picture a better performance of her than Leahy. She delivers some of the most devastating lines of the last 100 years with her keen intellect like a razor in her boot. A gimlet-eyed wry humor imbues lines like,”Of course he has a knife. He always has a knife. We all have knives. It’s 1183 and we’re barbarians,” with a beguiling mix of rage and resignation. Spicer’s Henry is her match, despite a few issues with accent slippage. He understands the rapid-fire mania of a changing age and has the lived-in confidence of a strong man not quite ready to give it up. The two of them are magic together, volleying life and death at each other like old pros and key to it all enjoying it. There’s a rare, dancing rhythm to everything they touch.
More and better dark laughs lie within SRO’s The Lion in Winter than you’re likely to find anywhere else. It’s a reminder that irony is the best filter for pollutants we get used to breathing like oxygen and burning some skin off once in a while is essential.
The Lion in Winter runs through February 5 with shows at 8:00 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 2:00 p.m. Sunday, and an additional 10:30 a.m. Friday performance on February 3. For tickets and more info, visit srotheatre.org.