Richard, My Richard

A photograph and a few words

I said that someone should write a play closer to the historical truth, and casually someone said: you do it.

Philippa Gregory

Last week, I meandered some distance as I travelled west across the north of England for a theatre trip to Prescot, a town on Merseyside, a few miles from Liverpool.

I mentioned in a Substack note a couple of weeks ago that I planned to make the journey by train—three trains there, in fact, and four trains back to my home in Blaydon. All except one ran to time; sadly, that one, the 9:10 from Carlisle to Wigan North Western, didn't run at all. There was no drama, however. I had time to spare, so I caught the train after, and as I waited, I had time to reflect on the many times I've passed through that latter station in my working days and how often its name begged the question, why the added 'North Western'? Most people in the UK know that Wigan is in England’s northwest, and there isn't another Wigan in the UK, say a Wigan South East or South West. Wikipedia answered the question. Wigan boasts two railway stations (but not a pier, despite George Orwell's hope of finding that landmark). The ‘second’ station is Wigan Wallgate, across the road from ‘North Western’ on a street named, unsurprisingly, Wallgate. While 'North Western' serves travellers between London and Scotland, Wallgate offers services to Manchester. The added ‘North Western’ comes not because of the station’s location but because it once belonged to the London and North Western Railway.

Only a few who read this are probably familiar with the town of Prescot (this was my first visit). Yet, the belief is that in the late 16th Century, its theatre was the only purpose-built indoor playhouse outside of London. Of course, given the time, the theatre saw plays by a certain William Shakespeare performed there.

That link inspired building the far more recent 'Shakespeare North Playhouse'. It opened some 18 months ago, and its design is based on Inigo Jones’ Cockpit-at-Court style of the early 17th century. 

That style came from the fact that Jones’ original playhouse in London was built on an area where once stood a cockfighting arena that, in Shakespeare's time, was also occasionally used as a makeshift theatre.

However, I wasn't at Prescot’s theatre to see a Shakespeare play but a play based on a real-life character that the bard much maligned. It was to watch 'Richard, My Richard', a debut play by the well-known historical author Philippa Gregory that offered a fresh perspective on the life of the notorious king, Richard III.

Gregory's play centres around Richard's interactions with 'History', personified as a sceptical but ultimately open-minded entity. This framing device allows Richard to defend his actions and offer his perspective on the events leading to his rise and fall. Through flashbacks and dialogues, the narrative delves into Richard's childhood, marked by societal marginalisation. This experience, Gregory suggests, fostered a sense of injustice and fuelled his determination to carve his path regardless of societal expectations.

Set against the 'Wars of the Roses' backdrop, 'Richard, My Richard' unfolds during a tumultuous period in English history marked by dynastic struggles and political upheaval. Gregory's play draws upon historical events and characters in her account of Richard's ascent to the throne and his later downfall. By situating the narrative within this turbulent historical context, Gregory invites audiences to reflect on the nature of power and its often tragic consequences.

The play marks a bold departure from the traditional portrayal of Richard III as a monstrous villain. It offers an insightful exploration of power dynamics, ambition, and manipulation. In contrast to Shakespeare's iconic depiction, Gregory presents a nuanced and sympathetic exploration of the king, challenging established narratives and inviting the audience to question their preconceived notions. Throughout the play, we see Richard's determination to seize the throne and willingness to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. However, at the same time, we also see Richard's humanity and vulnerability. The ghosts of his victims haunt him, and his conscience torments him. He struggles with guilt and remorse, even as he continues pursuing his ambitions. Through the lens of Richard III's rise and fall, Gregory crafts a narrative that delves into the complexities of political intrigue and personal ambition.

Unlike Shakespeare's Richard, who is consumed solely by ambition, Gregory's portrayal emphasises his loyalty to his family and passion for England's well-being. He argues that his actions, including the controversial deaths of his nephews, are motivated by a desire to secure a stable and prosperous future for the kingdom. The play highlights his administrative capabilities, emphasising his efforts to improve infrastructure and legal systems.

Gregory further humanises Richard by highlighting his vulnerability and emotional depth. His relationships with women, particularly Anne Neville and his mother, Cecily Neville, provide glimpses into his capacity for love and loyalty. These portrayals counter the ruthless schemer often associated with the historical figure. Gregory's portrayal of Richard delves into the psychological depths of ambition, exposing the moral compromises and ethical dilemmas inherent in the quest for supremacy. And it isn't just Richard. All the characters indulge in Machiavellian machinations and calculated manipulations, which reflect the corrupting influence of power.

Central to the dramatic tension of 'Richard, My Richard' are the intricate relationships and power dynamics that shape the characters' motivations and actions. From Richard's cunning schemes to manipulate his rivals to the moral struggles faced by those caught in his orbit, Gregory masterfully weaves a web of intrigue and betrayal that drives the narrative forward. Characters such as Anne Neville, Buckingham, and the young princes are foils to Richard's ambition, highlighting the moral complexities and personal sacrifices inherent in pursuing power. The play suggests that power can be a dangerous and seductive force capable of corrupting even the most well-intentioned individuals.

Throughout 'Richard, My Richard', alliances shift, testing the characters' loyalties as they grapple with the consequences of their choices and confront the moral ambiguities of their actions. The play's exploration of betrayal and redemption speaks to universal truths about human nature, offering a poignant commentary on the fragility of trust and the complexities of forgiveness in the face of betrayal.

While the play acknowledges the controversial aspects of Richard's reign, it avoids outright condemnation. Instead, it encourages critical reflection on the historical context and the limitations of historical narratives. By giving Richard a voice and exploring the motivations behind his actions, Gregory challenges the audience to re-evaluate assumptions and consider the potential biases embedded within historical accounts.

However, 'Richard, My Richard' is not an attempt to entirely exonerate Richard. The play acknowledges his complexity and ambiguity, allowing the audience to form their own conclusions. Gregory's strength in historical fiction shines through with rich character portrayals. Richard is a complex character, and the play succeeds in offering a more nuanced view of him than the traditional villain. 

The play's format has an original concept of having Richard confronting 'History' as a character, sparking engaging conversations about truth and perspective, given that history can be an unreliable narrator of fact. One particular monologue by 'History' serves to remind the audience that while history, and therefore we, know the names of the long-dead young, innocent princes, it, and therefore we, fail to register those innocents who die in more significant numbers in modern tragedies.

Injections of humour lighten the drama and intrigue, especially from Tom Kanji, who plays 'History' brilliantly and engages the audience early, even exchanging banter as if with an audience of four hundred years ago. The cramped circular cockpit stage surrounded by the audience serves that early engagement well, as it does when the actors move around in both their literal and metaphorical machinations. Kyle Rowe's performance as Richard is dynamic and robust as he passionately retells his life and answers the accusations levelled by 'History'.

Despite their talents, history rarely mentions the women surrounding potent men, so seeing women at the forefront of the plot was a welcome change. Jennifer Matter, as Edward IV's queen; Tori Burgess, as Richard's queen; Laura Smithers, as Margaret Beaufort; and Mary Savage as the daughter of Edward IV, all execute their roles to perfection, demonstrating their ambition, guile, and drive for success.

The play is not perfect, and its unfolding in a series of vignettes can sometimes feel disjointed. Also, for those unfamiliar with Richard III, grasping the full impact of the play might require some background reading.

Overall, however, I thought 'Richard, My Richard' a great example of how portraying a historical figure can be entertaining and insightful. I much enjoyed Philippa Gregory's thought-provoking play, which urges the audience to question the motives of those who write history, appreciate the biases that can shape narratives and the play’s challenge of historical stereotypes.  While the fragmented structure may not appeal to everyone, the play's central theme and Gregory's insightful writing, effectively delivered by a talented cast, make it a worthwhile watch, especially for those interested in Richard III or historical fiction.