It's not knowing the language. It's not knowing the cultural references. Which means you can't understand all the choices that have been made. Yes, that's Gloucester and Kent but why is Kent on a trolley as if he has no legs and Gloucester in a wheel chair. For all their status and power they are helpless, but is that all?
Lear is vital, muscular, brutal, a violent Ubu Roi driven mad by power and cruelty not age and dementia. Cordelia and her sisters demonstrate their love with incestuous embraces. France is a decrepit old man, his voice a high pitched whine, who seizes his chance to grasp some young flesh. The Fool bares his arse. Gloucester makes Edmund catch his piss in a pot. They inhabit a filthy, corrupt, absurd cruel world where there is no place for love and affection and we're not permitted a moment of sympathy until it is too late and Lear wheels in his beloved daughter to silence.
No last redeeming lines from Edgar to give us hope. Cordelia wakes, giving us a suggestion of what could be if lives had been lived with some humanity. Or perhaps I want to hope that the possibility exists.
I've read about the situation in Belarus. I can only guess from what personal experiences this production has been conceived. The images are with me from last week. I do know that Shakespeare is a clever bastard and the Belarus Free Theatre are the most exciting company I've seen in a long time.
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