Now Ian McKellen portrays the “foolish fond old man” who disinherits his youngest daughter Cordelia for not toadying to his whims and consequently divides the kingdom between his eldest daughters Regan and Goneril.
Bad move, as any fule kno. This is a far more intimate production than McKellen’s 2007 Lear at the RSC, set in a decaying Imperial Russian theatre.
Here we find ourselves in a vaguely Edwardian period with echoes of empire in the over-decorated uniforms festooned with ribbons and gold braid.
We are also closer to the action and the minimal set is rolled on and off a circular red-carpeted stage.
The Minerva prides itself on its water features and it comes into force in the storm scene as rain cascades down, soaking the actors and the carpet.
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At three hours and 20 minutes, this production may seem a daunting prospect but director Jonathan Munby maintains the momentum of a political thriller.
He has assembled a crack cast and knows exactly what to do with them: Sinéad Cusack as the Countess of Kent, a gender transition that works well; Phil Daniels as The Fool, crossing George Formby with Freddie Garrity; and Danny Webb, hugely affecting as Gloucester, played as a tough veteran rather than a bumbling old man.
At times it timeslips surreptitiously into the 21st century: a Polaroid is taken of Gloucester’s blinding; Lear ends up on a drip in hospital; and the mini skirt and killer heels of Kirsty Bushell’s vulgar Regan and the tight black dress of Dervla Kirwan’s venomous Goneril suggest a collision between Made In Essex and Made In Chelsea.
Munby’s clarity of purpose brings Lear’s failing mind into urgent focus as he succumbs to dementia.
His heartless children turn him away to wander homeless and he starts to resemble the victim of a selfish society like our own.
McKellen is never less than astonishing, underplaying Lear’s descent to create a portrait of a pitiful, broken old man that is moving beyond belief.
The epic tragedy may be muted as a result but it’s a price worth paying. Don’t miss.