Featuring Mira Sethi and Khalid Ahmed in pivotal roles, the classic Shakespearian tragedy is adapted for the stage in Urdu, with direction of Zia Mohyeddin.
Lahore:Shakespeare’s bleak, brilliant King Lear has lived and died on stages across the globe a million and one times. Nihilistic, acerbic and still moving, despite centuries separating the author and his audience, it is often considered one of the best works of the playwright, serving as a cautionary tale against greed, corruption and false flattery - three issues that plague the Pakistani society.
Perhaps haunted by the same sentiment, iconic actor and playwright, Zia Mohyeddin translated and directed the two-act play for NAPA in Karachi. After an extremely successful run in the maritime city, the production flew down to Lahore and took to stage, for two nights at the Al-Hamra, greeted by an enthusiastic crowd.
The plot of King Lear isn’t exactly a secret; literally everyone dies in the end. The first act is a crescendo of emotions and intrigue, crashing down in the second act, annihilating the innocent and the sinners alike.
Khalid Ahmed does justice to an adulation loving Lear who wishes to retain all pomp and privileges without any responsibility. Other notable performances were rendered by Nazar-ul-Hasan as Edgar, the Earl of Gloucester’s legitimate son while Paras Masroor embodies the conniving Edmund, his illegitimate brother. Actor Mira Sethi took on the role of obsequious Goneril whose machinations lead the assault on Lear, despite being his daughter and swearing more than lifelong allegiance to her lord father not too long ago.
Lear’s plight, Edgar and the Earl of Gloucester’s turn of fortune and Goneril’s self-righteousness tinged with royal disdain took on a new intensity with Mohyeddin’s faithful, lyrical translation. Not only was the deeper, subversive context retained, but the blithe wordplay and aesthetic integrity of the centuries old text shone through, complimented by the translator’s flawless command over Urdu.
In a male heavy plot with stand-out performances by many theatre veterans such as Ahmed and Masroor, Sethi managed to bring flair to her character, holding her own with impeccable expressions that conveyed the superiority complex defining Goneril. Her mannerism, elocution and subtle arching of the eyebrows immediately spoke of elite, aristocratic women who look down upon everyone and everything around them, secure in their self-confidence, insecure of ego. It was truly a pleasure to watch.
The production, lasting two hours and 45 minutes, was abridged for the stage but the audience could barely tell the difference. It had been dealt with so deftly that nothing of the essence was lost. The lighting and the sound effects, especially in the crucial thunderstorm sequence, added to the atmosphere, making for a riveting play.
There is some critique though, mostly for the audience. It was shameful to see and hear the sharp, jarring jingles of cell phones, despite the audience being requested to put their devices on silent. Given that we’ve been dealing with mobiles now for over a decade, this should be common sense, not even a public service announcement by now.
Equally disappointing was when the viewers actually picked up their calls, engaging in lengthy albeit whispered conversation in the middle of an otherwise silent auditorium. Not only did they miss out on the performance, but they also ruined the experience for others who had immersed themselves in the play’s universe.
There is such little art, literature or culture left on display in this country. Our audiences, especially the younger generation has no idea how rewarding sitting through a theatre production can be. It is a loss that is reflected in our society. Theatre productions, whether traced back to their Greek thespian origins to modern versions, have always held up a mirror to society, helping the audience self-reflect via mythologies and parables.
Instead of hyping up television dramas that perpetuate false moralities and provide platforms to authors who can only lift themselves up while denigrating others, we need to revive our rich history of storytelling. We need to support our theatres, respect the sanctity of the space and stories and learn to call out the sycophants, a la Lear.
