Lost Lear @ Traverse Theatre
Venetia Bowe shines in this intensely moving and astonishingly clever production about an actress lost in her memories
Stories about dementia – particularly stories that centre the experience of the person going through it – are hard to put on stage. How do you capture, and more importantly convey, the specific internal reckoning of a condition that so few of us truly understand? This astonishing piece, written and directed by Dublin-based theatremaker Dan Colley, plays with one of Shakespeare’s most famous tragedies to take more than a fair shot at it.
Venetia Bowe plays Joy, a frail but nonetheless ferocious former actress intent on rehearsing and re-rehearsing scenes from King Lear and demanding that the people around her join in. "All the world’s a stage" really does ring true in this case – as the play hurtles on, it becomes apparent that Joy is in a care home. Her carer Liam, interested in unusual treatment methods, supports Joy by helping her to re-enact her core memory of playing King Lear over and over again. When Conor, Joy’s decidedly un-luvvie son, turns up, his reluctance to play along is sharpened by the unresolved issues he has with his mother.
This interesting premise is really brought to life by flawless directing choices and a stunningly accomplished cast and creative team. Bowe’s ability to move deftly between roles-within-roles – domineering as Lear, imperious and haughty as Joy in her remembered prime, meek and tender as Lear’s daughter Cordelia – is remarkable. Manus Halligan and Gus McDonagh also bring strong performances to the table as earnest carer Liam and gruff but wounded son Conor respectively. In a play that could get carried away by the force of Joy’s fantasies, McDonagh lends a heartbreaking earthiness to his portrayal of a son who always wanted a mother, not a star.
Echoing King Lear’s themes of hubris, fractured family ties, and the lived experience of ‘madness’, this production is as much about conveying what dementia might feel like to the person with it as it is about its impact on loved ones. Colley spoke to people with dementia as well as family carers, and the thoroughness of his research shows. By casting Joy as her younger self, the director honours her inner reality over external truth, a decision that deepens the play’s poignancy, especially in the second half.
Set Designer Andrew Clancy initially presents Joy as queen of her imagined realm (a white leather wingback chair, her throne), before using a simple gauzy curtain to split the stage and mirror her confusion and fractured sense of self. Kevin Gleeson and Daniel MacCauley’s turbulent sound design underlines the whole thing beautifully, while the use of AV also successfully captures Joy’s raging Storm Within. But as impressively theatrical as the play’s second half is, it’s the quiet, tender moments that truly pull at the heartstrings – making Lost Lear as moving as it is mind-blowing.
Lost Lear, Traverse Theatre (Traverse 1), run ended