Blog Post #14 (Justin): Loving Richard (but with a Safety Net)

Based on the dramaturgical content presented in the clip from McKellan/Loncraine’s Richard III, a presently-situated viewer is able (without prior knowledge of the text) to extrapolate or infer that Sir Ian’s grotesque leader is not going to fair well at the end of the movie. The film’s opening moments work meticulously to set up a politically avaricious Richard, who is an English equivalent of a ladder climbing Adolph Hitler. This choice requires almost no dramaturgical homework at all, as a surplus of well known images can be deployed to evoke the monstrous figure and his regime: period-perfect automobiles with tiny waving red flags ornamentally affixed to hoods, darkroom photographers taking pictures for use as political propaganda, the spit curl coiled on the sultry singer’s forehead as she croons along with a big band. McKellen’s pencil-thin mustache may not be Hitler’s small rectangular patch, but its black hue and exact lines are sufficient for indicating the reviled fascist. This is an apt evocation, for as Jennifer states in her blog post, “Richard is just a bad, bad man.”

Beyond being bad, Shakespeare’s Richard was also very, very successful. He climbed his way to the top of the political heap, while building a contingency of supporters throughout the ascent – much like a certain aforementioned dictator. The film (and I would argue the play) purposefully inspires sympathy for Richard (Hitler?). Feeling such sympathy should be a very scary moment for the spectator. One sees/feels what it is to be duped by the monster and the political machine. The challenge in producing Richard III is not in presenting an evil ruler who is hated by everyone (both characters and spectators), but in creating an evil ruler who is plausibly allowed to continue his evil regime whilst being supported by everyone (again, both characters and spectators). If Richard was just an unsympathetic evil man, he would hide his innermost thoughts and create a façade of righteousness. Instead, Shakespeare’s Richard openly shares his evil musings with us throughout the proceedings and McKellan’s Richard breaks all pretense of inhibition by doing so while relieving himself in a urinal. We are his accomplices. And that is okay, because we know he is going to get his due in the end. Because this Richard has been historically grounded as an equivalent to Hitler, we know he will not succeed and we are thus set free from feeling any guilt for sympathizing or empathizing as the plot unfolds.