Review: King Lear (Belarus Free Theatre at Chicago Shakespeare)

A Lear filled with unnerving yet joyous subversive spirit

Urine, blood, eggs, peanut butter, dirt, mucus. That's a partial list of the substances flung, smeared, squirted and spurted over the stage during the Belarus Free Theatre's staging of King Lear . To be sure, the blood and the urine probably aren't the real deal. But they're still unnerving and grotesque as all get out. And they ensure that the Belarus Free Theatre's is unlike any previous encounter you may have had with Shakespeare's tragedy.

Some of the company's riotous antics seem indulgent: Poor Tom finger paints with human waste (gag-inducingly realistic chunky peanut butter), Gloucester's incontinence renders him a human Old Faithful, and the Fool graphically fellates a trombone while masturbating atop a piano. But there's a method to the company's madness: That relentlessly over-the-top aesthetic speaks to the defiance that defines a company of actors who have been arrested, fired, thrown out of school, physically attacked and imprisoned - simply for performing.

The very language that the company performs in - Belarusian - is banned by Belarus's authoritarian, oppressive government. When the company performs in their native land, the shows are shrouded in secrecy: Ticketholders aren't told when or where the show will be until the day of the performance, via surreptitious text. Audience members are advised to bring their passports - it will make the processing easier in the likely event that the performance is raided and everyone gets arrested.

With , this indomitable group of artists seeks to draw parallels between Lear's collapsing country and the dire straits of the countries that emerged after the fall of the USSR. The company's success in drawing that parallel is intermittent. If you aren't already very familiar with the plot, you'll probably find the story tough to follow, especially in its final quarter. And if you aren't familiar with the politics of Belarus, the show's rambunctious slapstick will seem puzzling rather than provocative.

Nicolai Khalezin and Vladimir Shcherban's slice-and-dice adaptation pares the piece to a lean two hours. Supertitles flash above the stage following dialogue that comes so rapidly it's often impossible to keep up. And in the final scenes, Khalezin and Shcherban all but dispense with Shakespeare entirely. The actors don black balaclavas and enact a main character murder that's definitely not in Shakespeare's original text. The dialogue too veers away from Shakespeare in the last moments, and into a burning, contemporary vernacular.

Flaws and all, there's an urgency and a joyous, subversive spirit throughout. . Directed by Shcherban, the actors are ferociously committed to the raw physicality of the piece. The show's sensibility is that of a massive middle finger gleefully flipped in the face of tyrants.

As Lear, Aleh Sidorchyk captures the folly of a clueless aristocrat who has never heard the word "no", and simply ceases to function in a world where his every bidding isn't immediately obeyed. When it comes time for the king to battle the raging elements of Act Three's famous tempest, Sidorchyk furiously tries to find his footing on a massive,

undulating tarp that the rest of the ensemble whips back and forth under his feet. It's a scene that feels truly dangerous, and illustrates Lear's peril with howling fervor. Siarhei Kvachonak's Poor Tom is all prancing madness, a whipthin portrait of a broken soul that has retreated deep into the recesses of a mind that no longer has much connection to the larger world.

As Regan and Goneril (respectively) Maryna Yurevich and Yana Rusakevich are noisy, loathsome creatures more reptilian than human. And as Cordelia, Victoria Biran is a compelling mix of innocence and stubbornness.

Throughout, clamors for attention, whether by performing oral sex on a horn, covering the stage with peanut butter or confronting the audience with full-frontal nudity. The company doesn't need to try to hard: The power in the text and the performances are haunting and resonant, with or without the onslaught of grotesqueries.

continues through February 14th at Chicago Shakespeare, 800 E. Grand (map). Tickets are $48-$58, and are available by phone (312-595-5600) or online through their website (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com ). More information at ChicagoShakes.com. (Running time: 1 hour 55 minutes, includes an intermission. Performed in Belarusian with project English translations.)

behind the scenes

Vladimir Shcherban (director, editor, designer, costume design), Nicolai Khalezin (adapter, executive producer, photographer), Natalia Kaliada (executive producer, costume design), Alex Shyrnevich (costume design), Pavel Arakelian (original musical reprise), Sviatlana Yafimava (vocal coach), Elias Faingersh (musician), Yurka Hauruk (Belarusian poetic translator), Marty Moore (production manager), Svetlana Sugako (stage manager), Nadia Brodskaya (company manager, surtitles), Fenella Dawnay (original producer), Clare Robertson (general manager, producer)

Tags: 16-0212, Aleh Sidorchyk, Alex Shyrnevich, Andrei Urazau, Belarus Free Theatre, Catey Sullivan, Chicago Shakespeare Theater, Chicago Theater, Clare Robertson, Dzianis Tarasenka, Elias Faingersh, Fenella Dawnay, Kiryl Kanstantsinau, Marty Moore, Maryia Sazonaya, Maryna Yurevich, Nadia Brodskaya, Natalia Kaliada, Navy Pier, Nicolai Khalezin, Pavel Arakelian, Pavel Radak-Haradnitski, post, Siarhei Kvachonak, Svetlana Sugako, Sviatlana Yafimava, Victoria Biran, Vladimir Shcherban, William Shakespeare, Yana Rusakevich, Yuliya Shauchuk, Yuriy Dalivelya, Yurka Hauruk

Category: 2016 Reviews, Catey Sullivan, Chicago Shakespeare, National Tours, Navy Pier, Theatre Festival, Video, William Shakespeare, YouTube