Press and Praise for the Lion in Winter
Review: 'The Lion in Winter' Roars to Life in Psych Drama Company's Production
by Kilian Melloy
EDGE Staff Reporter
Sunday June 12, 2022
Despite a two-year delay caused by COVID — a delay that was cleverly worked around, in the interim, with an audio presentation — Psych Drama Company brings to the stage its vision for James Goldman's ferocious 1966 play "The Lion in Winter." The wait has been worth it, and the audio drama has helped the production ripen; this presentation is as crisp and juicy as a Kanzi apple.
The action is set in a castle at Christmastime in 1183. King Henry II (Brian Dion) has gathered the entire royal family together for the holiday, including his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Wendy Lippe), whom he has imprisoned for the past decade for having taken her son's side in a campaign to topple him.
You thought the theatrics in the modern royal family were a real life drama? Goldman's play is based on actual historical facts (even though the dialogue and holiday gathering depicted in the play are fictitious). After having to claw his way to the throne, Henry II attempted to preserve his empire by anointing his son — also called Henry — as his successor even during his lifetime. What followed was civil strife. Now, with Henry the Younger dead, the king must decide on a new successor, and his three surviving sons are all determined to wear the crown.
King Henry II doesn't just expect that his boys will struggle and scheme to win the prize; he welcomes and applauds their ambition. His pick for the throne is youngest son (Michal Mazzone), in spite of his being the dimmest of dim bulbs and a spoiled, self-centered brat besides. Eleanor favors Richard (Richie de Jesus) —known as the Lionheart — whose skill and success in battle rival the accomplishments of his father. Henry and Eleanor are each as determined as their sons are to see things go their way, while the third son, Jeffrey (Zachary D. McConnell), is excluded from his parents' schemes and negotiations, even though he is by far the most clever of the three young men. That being the case, Jeffrey is more than capable of creating his own plots and alliances.
Adding still more friction to the mix are two more characters who are on hand for the Yuletide revelries: King Philip II of France (to whose father, Louis VII, Eleanor used to be married — a union that was strategically annulled in 1152 after she failed to produce any sons for Louis) is visiting, just in time to take part in the family's dizzying roundelay of plots and counter-plots. Philip is played by Norman Dubois.) Philip's older half-sister, Princess Alais (Caitlin Cremins) rounds things out: She's to be the wife of England's next king... unless, of course, Henry II marries her himself.
The battle of wits and wills is titanic, and the play's writing is razor-sharp, as these royal scorpions rattle around in their bucket, seeking advantage and drawing up brutal plans against one another despite (and perhaps because of) their deep bonds of affection —bonds that are especially strong and complicated between Henry II and Eleanor. Every scene is electric with impending betrayal, and reversals are par for the course.
The play is an epic for the stage, demanding a strong and able cast together with skilled and crystal-clear direction, and co-directors Lippe and Larry Segel meet its many challenges with an inventive twist. The production is set up as an immersive experience, with clusters of audience seating arrayed around specific spots that belong to the different characters. At moments, the dialogue is delivered in knowing asides to the audience —moments that play more like internal monologues than breaking of the fourth wall (though that would not be out of place, either, given the play's deliberate anachronisms).
Lippe and Segel also split many of the technical duties between themselves. The staging is Lippe's idea, while Segel tackles the technical and lighting design, conjuring castle walls from tapestries and shadows, with large electric candelabras flickering away, their orange electric bulbs mimicking candle flames. A red spotlight serves as a literal hotspot — a place into which characters drift in their most intense, emotionally honest moments. The ruddy color of the spotlight confirms the heat of the characters' blood, as well as the plausible expectation that the Gordian knot of their conflicting, constricting demands can only ever be cut with a strong arm and a sword.
Segel also shares sound design tasks with Doug Greene and James Wlodyka (never has the iron clang of a dungeon door sounded more authoritative), while Lippe and Amanda Allen handle the costuming —everything from period-specific dresses for the women and tunics for the men to night shifts in the intimate (though hardly cozy) bedchambers that Eleanor and Alais share.
Mazzone's John is the very embodiment of immature entitlement (sometimes to the point of self-parody); McConnell's Geoffrey is as sharp and cold as a dagger, and thirsty enough for power, and vengeance, that it hangs in the air around him. DeJesus as Richard and Dubois as Philip bring to life a steamy, homoerotic history between their characters. Cremins isn't given as much to do as the others, but she makes the most of her role.
Still, it all comes down to Lippe and Dion, and the two are transfixing. Dion's voice can be crashingly loud, but he doesn't need volume to exert his formidable stage presence, and his roar is far less chilling than his chuckle. Lippe's Eleanor is absolutely in charge, until she's not; Henry's maneuvers box her in and Jeffrey has her almost literally on the strings he's pulling, but even then she's quick to recognize opportunities and seize potential victory time after time from near-certain defeat. Hers is the play's mot amusing anachronism-slash-fourth wall breaking moment, and the play's most self-aware comment, when she notes, "We've all got knives. It's 1183, and we're barbarians."
Indeed. It's 2022, and this timeless stage classic might be the most politically contemporary, unfailingly observant play of the moment. Psych Drama Company knows what it has in this work, and makes the most of it.
Read this article on Edge Media Network>
"THE LION IN WINTER" STAGED BY PSYCH DRAMA COMPANY, HOSTED BY THEATRE COMPANY OF SAUGUS (SAUGUS, MA.) - REVIEW
by Kevin T. Baldwin, American Theater Critics Association
While some may feel imprisoned by ongoing inflation, supply shortages and skyrocketing gas prices, Psych Drama Company offers a brief respite from today's grief with an intensely entertaining production of James Goldman's "The Lion in Winter."
While the play wants to fool us into thinking it has a Shakespearean texture, Goldman's dialogue shares a cutting dry wit closer to Noel Coward than the Bard.
While clearly a drama, there are many humorous moments in this production that also is staged to be "immersive" (whereby the actors seem to repeatedly "break the fourth wall" speaking their lines directly to the audience as if we are on the stage in the scene with them).
A simply marvelous approach as co-directed by Wendy Lippe and Larry Segel that yields impressive results and a far more atmospheric intimacy with the content of Goldman's material.
As the play opens, it is Christmas, 1183. We are seated around and inside the esteemed castle of blustery King Henry II of England (Brian Dion).
Henry's wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Wendy Lippe), arrives from exile as Henry had her imprisoned 10 years earlier.
It is clear their relationship is adversarial from the outset, yet there is an inconsistent, underlying but occasionally endearing quality to both thanks to the balanced performances by Dion and Lippe.
This is a couple that not only loves to hate one another, they literally seem to hate still loving one another, even though Henry seeks a new bride in the extremely young Alais (Caitlin Cremins)...whose expression in the provided photo below seemingly speaks for many of us at the prospect of such a marriage.
Alais is a French Princess who is Philip's half-sister but has been living at Henry’s castle since she was betrothed to Richard at age eight.
Such is the delicate tightrope walk teetering high above the precipices of the two traditional drama masks ("Comedy" vs. "Tragedy") as capably represented throughout Goldman's play.
We also meet Henry’s three competitive sons: Richard Lionheart (Richie DeJesus), the oldest and clearly most ambitious; Geoffrey (Zachary D. McConnell), the conniving albeit overlooked middle son; and John (Michael Mazzone), the immature youngest.
Prodded by Eleanor’s manipulative intervening, a contest ensues between all members of the squabbling royal family and guest of the kingdom, Phillip II, the King of France (Norman Dubois).
The performances of the actors portraying the sibling brothers and the visiting King are all well defined and executed.
However, it is clearly the on-stage relationship between Henry and Eleanor that is at the heart of the story and it is both Dion and Lippe that deliver the most layered and insightful performances. Dion is especially domineering on stage as the regal Henry.
Throughout Goldman's dialogue, the brothers incessant feuding is fueled by Henry and Eleanor’s mischievous competition. This leaves the audience with not one sympathetic character nor any character to root for, with the possible exception of the naïve Alais.
Cremins is good in the role of Alais but seemingly lacks that element of naïveté, almost coming across more mischievous than naïve. This may also be a result of her character, again as scripted by Goldman, being limited primarily to react to the behavior of the others in scenes.
The sheltered Alais, ultimately, is used as nothing more than a pawn by the others, leaving very little for the actress to work with as far as material is concerned.
However, Alais does figure, quite prominently, as an obvious potential threat to the relationship between Henry and Eleanor.
Not so obvious is the ultimate relationship between Henry and Eleanor, which appears acrimonious at best, pathetic at worst, yet riveting throughout the two and half hour production.
It is this relationship that keeps one delightfully guessing until the very end if their dangerous liaison and cruel intention toward one another will ultimately fall into either the depths of comedy or tragedy.
Costumes by Amanda Allen, Lippe and Vanessa Phelon were all resplendent and well-conducive to the time period.
Kevin T. Baldwin
American Theater Critics Association, Metrmag
Read this article on Metrmag >
by Kevin T. Baldwin, American Theater Critics Association
While some may feel imprisoned by ongoing inflation, supply shortages and skyrocketing gas prices, Psych Drama Company offers a brief respite from today's grief with an intensely entertaining production of James Goldman's "The Lion in Winter."
While the play wants to fool us into thinking it has a Shakespearean texture, Goldman's dialogue shares a cutting dry wit closer to Noel Coward than the Bard.
While clearly a drama, there are many humorous moments in this production that also is staged to be "immersive" (whereby the actors seem to repeatedly "break the fourth wall" speaking their lines directly to the audience as if we are on the stage in the scene with them).
A simply marvelous approach as co-directed by Wendy Lippe and Larry Segel that yields impressive results and a far more atmospheric intimacy with the content of Goldman's material.
As the play opens, it is Christmas, 1183. We are seated around and inside the esteemed castle of blustery King Henry II of England (Brian Dion).
Henry's wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Wendy Lippe), arrives from exile as Henry had her imprisoned 10 years earlier.
It is clear their relationship is adversarial from the outset, yet there is an inconsistent, underlying but occasionally endearing quality to both thanks to the balanced performances by Dion and Lippe.
This is a couple that not only loves to hate one another, they literally seem to hate still loving one another, even though Henry seeks a new bride in the extremely young Alais (Caitlin Cremins)...whose expression in the provided photo below seemingly speaks for many of us at the prospect of such a marriage.
Alais is a French Princess who is Philip's half-sister but has been living at Henry’s castle since she was betrothed to Richard at age eight.
Such is the delicate tightrope walk teetering high above the precipices of the two traditional drama masks ("Comedy" vs. "Tragedy") as capably represented throughout Goldman's play.
We also meet Henry’s three competitive sons: Richard Lionheart (Richie DeJesus), the oldest and clearly most ambitious; Geoffrey (Zachary D. McConnell), the conniving albeit overlooked middle son; and John (Michael Mazzone), the immature youngest.
Prodded by Eleanor’s manipulative intervening, a contest ensues between all members of the squabbling royal family and guest of the kingdom, Phillip II, the King of France (Norman Dubois).
The performances of the actors portraying the sibling brothers and the visiting King are all well defined and executed.
However, it is clearly the on-stage relationship between Henry and Eleanor that is at the heart of the story and it is both Dion and Lippe that deliver the most layered and insightful performances. Dion is especially domineering on stage as the regal Henry.
Throughout Goldman's dialogue, the brothers incessant feuding is fueled by Henry and Eleanor’s mischievous competition. This leaves the audience with not one sympathetic character nor any character to root for, with the possible exception of the naïve Alais.
Cremins is good in the role of Alais but seemingly lacks that element of naïveté, almost coming across more mischievous than naïve. This may also be a result of her character, again as scripted by Goldman, being limited primarily to react to the behavior of the others in scenes.
The sheltered Alais, ultimately, is used as nothing more than a pawn by the others, leaving very little for the actress to work with as far as material is concerned.
However, Alais does figure, quite prominently, as an obvious potential threat to the relationship between Henry and Eleanor.
Not so obvious is the ultimate relationship between Henry and Eleanor, which appears acrimonious at best, pathetic at worst, yet riveting throughout the two and half hour production.
It is this relationship that keeps one delightfully guessing until the very end if their dangerous liaison and cruel intention toward one another will ultimately fall into either the depths of comedy or tragedy.
Costumes by Amanda Allen, Lippe and Vanessa Phelon were all resplendent and well-conducive to the time period.
Kevin T. Baldwin
American Theater Critics Association, Metrmag
Read this article on Metrmag >
The Psych Drama Company's Production of 'The Lion In Winter': A Literal Dream Come True
by Kilian Melloy
Wendy Lippe, founding artistic director of The Psych Drama Company (Source: Courtesy of Wendy Lippe)The Psych Drama Company's production of "The Lion in Winter" is a dream come true for co-director Wendy Lippe. Literally.
The play is a natural for The Psych Drama Company, which, under Lippe — a clinical psychologist and the company's founding artistic director — specializes in work that's character-driven, emotionally intense, and psychologically complex.
Written by James Goldman, the 1966 play (a hit on Broadway that was adapted into a movie starring Peter O'Toole and Katharine Hepburn in 1968) is set during Christmas in the year 1183. England's King Henry II has allowed his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, to leave prison, where he's had her confined for years following a plot to overthrow him, and join himself, their three sons, and France's King Philip II for the holiday as he tries to decide whom among his sons he will designate as his successor — a tricky proposition, given that all three of the young men have an ambition to rule.
Lippe has previously played Eleanor herself and found that she had what she calls an "immediate resonance" with the character, which she finds isn't always present when auditioning for a role or delving into a character once cast.
"I loved Eleanor from the moment I auditioned [for the role] with Roundabout Productions [in Attleboro]," Lippe said. "The first time I read one of the sides at the audition, I just said, 'Oh my god, I have to read the other sides.' Eleanor of Aquitaine, a medieval woman, unapologetically defies gender stereotypes; she owns her iron-like strength, femininity, power, sexuality, cunning, vulnerability, cruelty, joy, capacity for love, her mistakes and her regrets. Playing all those facets of a woman living in 1183 is a dream come true for this woman living in 2022."
The audition readings only confirmed Lippe's impression of the character and the play, "and thankfully they kept calling me up to read with other Henrys. I was ultimately cast in the show."
But when the production's run was finished and the curtain came down for the final time, the play wasn't yet over in Lippe's imagination.
"Within two months," Lippe related, "I had a dream of this production of 'The Lion in Winter' done in an immersive context." In the dream, each character had his or her own uniquely furnished room in the castle — a space reflecting the mind and point of view of that character — in which audience members would also be seated. The play's dialogue would thus become both a process of internal debate and a fourth-wall-breaking interaction with the audience, as the characters sought to justify their claims and convince the onlookers.
In Lippe's dream, the play's dynamics would be enhanced by the physical act of audience members turning in their seats to see the other characters as they spoke their lines in turn — a subtle, but powerful, means of investing the audience in the play's story beats. What comes across as a verbal tennis match in the proscenium stage would thus become an immediately involving experience, because, Lippe explained, "the entire audience can see everything that's going on in every room. It's all about twisting, turning" — much like Lippe and co-director Larry Segel's ultimate execution of the play itself, which is at times comic, at times dramatic, built on a cascade of manipulation and one-upmanship.
The dream was so vivid and specific in its production details that Lippe immediately called upon Segel, a frequent collaborator, to co-direct. They agreed that the immersive "Lion in Winter" would soon become a Psych Drama production. So, when would Lippe's dream be realized?
The Psych Drama Company had its first full season scheduled in 2020, after years of what Lippe called "plodding along" with a production or two every year or so. The season began with a critically acclaimed production of Edward Albee's "At Home at the Zoo," but then COVID struck, leading to the cancellation of the rest of the season, including "God of Carnage" and "Stage Kiss." Now what?
The early rumblings of the immersive "Lion in Winter" enter stage left: The dream of the immersive production was too powerful to surrender completely. Rather than attempt a production through a video format like Zoom — which Lippe says she finds "deadening" — she opted for a medium less modern but more conducive to imagination: Audio drama.
"I really have fallen in love with audio dramas," Lippe disclosed. "I think it's a wonderful medium because of what it stimulates in terms of fantasy and imagination."
The audio drama of "The Lion in Winter'' premiered in 2020, and two more Psych Drama audio productions followed in 2021: "MacBeth" and "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." In addition to receiving coverage in the Boston Globe, Croatian National Radio, and other press outlets, the audio dramas were critically acclaimed with reviews in the Harvard Crimson, Motif Magazine, METRMAG, and, in full disclosure, this correspondent was one such reviewer for EDGE.
"Color Conscious" Casting
Even after the "Lion in Winter" audio production concluded, the dream of the in-person, immersive experience still had a grip on Lippe, who was only waiting for theaters to reopen to make that dream a reality. In the meantime, the nation's reckoning with racial injustice presented other creative potentials for her vision.
"We were interested and invested in doing color conscious casting — not colorblind casting," Lippe recalled. "We had the opportunity to cast a wonderfully gifted Black actor, Zachary D McConnell, as Geoffrey," the middle son, who takes after his parents by being a clever, and ruthless, manipulator. "But we didn't want to negate the actor's identity as a Black man by doing colorblind casting that ignored his race; rather, we preferred to acknowledge and celebrate his race by making it part of the character." Moreover, Lippe noted, "To make one of the sons Black was to make the explicit statement that one of Henry and Eleanor's sons was a literal bastard; and of course, in the play, both Henry and Eleanor have had extramarital affairs."
It turned out to be an inspiration that tied in well with subtleties that existed already in the script.
"If you follow Geoffrey's dialogue with other characters in the script, his dialogue actually works beautifully with this narrative that he's a bastard," Lippe explained, "as much as the dialogue between the other characters when they're referring to Geoffrey."
But could this be made an integral part of the play's historical fabric, and not just be a matter of poetic license? "Goldman's play is purposely peppered with anachronisms," Lippe noted, but "we did want to understand if the text could really support a mixed-race narrative."
A "Beautifully Gay" Connection
Upon researching the question, Lippe and Segel discovered that in the early medieval years, being a "bastard" did not necessarily preclude a person from claiming an inheritance. What mattered more was the status of the parents, not whether they were married. And just as the case is today, in medieval Western Europe, Black people existed at all levels of social strata, including nobility. Therefore, if Geoffrey was a child that Eleanor or Henry conceived with a Black noble person, then he too could indeed have a claim to Henry's crown.
"With this historical information," Lippe said, "Larry and I were so psyched, because we didn't have to ask for a suspension of disbelief with regard to skin color. We could go with this color conscious casting, with a Black man as Geoffrey, and introduce a really exciting element to our production that we had certainly never seen before in other productions of 'The Lion in Winter.'"
"This changes the subtext of some of the lines between Eleanor and Henry when they're talking about their extramarital affairs and their sons," Lippe added. "There are some marvelous moments now between Henry and Eleanor that relate to this issue. At one point Eleanor has just accused Henry of cheating on her with 'countless others.' Henry then says, 'What's your count? Let's have a tally of the bedspreads you've spread out on.' Eleanor suggests that there has only been one, and says that it was 'Thomas Becket's.' Henry pauses and then says with gravity, 'That's a lie.' Eleanor looks down, ashamed, and says, 'I know it.'"
Adding to the family complexities is the fact that King Philip II of France (played by Norman Dubois) is also Eleanor's stepson from a former marriage — and, in keeping with some historians' thesis that one of Henry and Eleanor's sons, Richard (Richie DeJesus), might have been gay, there's a hint of something sexual between the two young men.
"Our understanding is absolutely that Richard is gay and that he and Philip had a romantic relationship in the past," Lippe affirmed. "And we've really worked with the actors to create this beautiful, erotic scene where there's so much sexual tension."
"What I love about Richard is that he is this warrior, you know, this traditionally masculine presence," Lippe continued, pausing for a moment to note, and laugh at, her use of standard social gender conventions. But her descriptions convey Richard's strapping physical strength and aggression — "and yet," Lippe added, "there are these moments of tenderness where he becomes a little boy wrapped in Eleanor's arms, and then these moments where he's with Philip and a tender, beautiful sexuality emerges between them. It's just so erotic and incredible. And so, yes, we understand him to be beautifully sexual," Lippe said, "and beautifully gay."
Kilian Melloy
The Boston Theater Critics Association's Elliot Norton Awards Committee, the Boston Online Film Critics Association, Edge Media Network's Associate Arts Editor and Staff Contributor, National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association, and The Gay and Lesbian Entertainment Critics Association.
Read this article on Edge Media Network >
by Kilian Melloy
Wendy Lippe, founding artistic director of The Psych Drama Company (Source: Courtesy of Wendy Lippe)The Psych Drama Company's production of "The Lion in Winter" is a dream come true for co-director Wendy Lippe. Literally.
The play is a natural for The Psych Drama Company, which, under Lippe — a clinical psychologist and the company's founding artistic director — specializes in work that's character-driven, emotionally intense, and psychologically complex.
Written by James Goldman, the 1966 play (a hit on Broadway that was adapted into a movie starring Peter O'Toole and Katharine Hepburn in 1968) is set during Christmas in the year 1183. England's King Henry II has allowed his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine, to leave prison, where he's had her confined for years following a plot to overthrow him, and join himself, their three sons, and France's King Philip II for the holiday as he tries to decide whom among his sons he will designate as his successor — a tricky proposition, given that all three of the young men have an ambition to rule.
Lippe has previously played Eleanor herself and found that she had what she calls an "immediate resonance" with the character, which she finds isn't always present when auditioning for a role or delving into a character once cast.
"I loved Eleanor from the moment I auditioned [for the role] with Roundabout Productions [in Attleboro]," Lippe said. "The first time I read one of the sides at the audition, I just said, 'Oh my god, I have to read the other sides.' Eleanor of Aquitaine, a medieval woman, unapologetically defies gender stereotypes; she owns her iron-like strength, femininity, power, sexuality, cunning, vulnerability, cruelty, joy, capacity for love, her mistakes and her regrets. Playing all those facets of a woman living in 1183 is a dream come true for this woman living in 2022."
The audition readings only confirmed Lippe's impression of the character and the play, "and thankfully they kept calling me up to read with other Henrys. I was ultimately cast in the show."
But when the production's run was finished and the curtain came down for the final time, the play wasn't yet over in Lippe's imagination.
"Within two months," Lippe related, "I had a dream of this production of 'The Lion in Winter' done in an immersive context." In the dream, each character had his or her own uniquely furnished room in the castle — a space reflecting the mind and point of view of that character — in which audience members would also be seated. The play's dialogue would thus become both a process of internal debate and a fourth-wall-breaking interaction with the audience, as the characters sought to justify their claims and convince the onlookers.
In Lippe's dream, the play's dynamics would be enhanced by the physical act of audience members turning in their seats to see the other characters as they spoke their lines in turn — a subtle, but powerful, means of investing the audience in the play's story beats. What comes across as a verbal tennis match in the proscenium stage would thus become an immediately involving experience, because, Lippe explained, "the entire audience can see everything that's going on in every room. It's all about twisting, turning" — much like Lippe and co-director Larry Segel's ultimate execution of the play itself, which is at times comic, at times dramatic, built on a cascade of manipulation and one-upmanship.
The dream was so vivid and specific in its production details that Lippe immediately called upon Segel, a frequent collaborator, to co-direct. They agreed that the immersive "Lion in Winter" would soon become a Psych Drama production. So, when would Lippe's dream be realized?
The Psych Drama Company had its first full season scheduled in 2020, after years of what Lippe called "plodding along" with a production or two every year or so. The season began with a critically acclaimed production of Edward Albee's "At Home at the Zoo," but then COVID struck, leading to the cancellation of the rest of the season, including "God of Carnage" and "Stage Kiss." Now what?
The early rumblings of the immersive "Lion in Winter" enter stage left: The dream of the immersive production was too powerful to surrender completely. Rather than attempt a production through a video format like Zoom — which Lippe says she finds "deadening" — she opted for a medium less modern but more conducive to imagination: Audio drama.
"I really have fallen in love with audio dramas," Lippe disclosed. "I think it's a wonderful medium because of what it stimulates in terms of fantasy and imagination."
The audio drama of "The Lion in Winter'' premiered in 2020, and two more Psych Drama audio productions followed in 2021: "MacBeth" and "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof." In addition to receiving coverage in the Boston Globe, Croatian National Radio, and other press outlets, the audio dramas were critically acclaimed with reviews in the Harvard Crimson, Motif Magazine, METRMAG, and, in full disclosure, this correspondent was one such reviewer for EDGE.
"Color Conscious" Casting
Even after the "Lion in Winter" audio production concluded, the dream of the in-person, immersive experience still had a grip on Lippe, who was only waiting for theaters to reopen to make that dream a reality. In the meantime, the nation's reckoning with racial injustice presented other creative potentials for her vision.
"We were interested and invested in doing color conscious casting — not colorblind casting," Lippe recalled. "We had the opportunity to cast a wonderfully gifted Black actor, Zachary D McConnell, as Geoffrey," the middle son, who takes after his parents by being a clever, and ruthless, manipulator. "But we didn't want to negate the actor's identity as a Black man by doing colorblind casting that ignored his race; rather, we preferred to acknowledge and celebrate his race by making it part of the character." Moreover, Lippe noted, "To make one of the sons Black was to make the explicit statement that one of Henry and Eleanor's sons was a literal bastard; and of course, in the play, both Henry and Eleanor have had extramarital affairs."
It turned out to be an inspiration that tied in well with subtleties that existed already in the script.
"If you follow Geoffrey's dialogue with other characters in the script, his dialogue actually works beautifully with this narrative that he's a bastard," Lippe explained, "as much as the dialogue between the other characters when they're referring to Geoffrey."
But could this be made an integral part of the play's historical fabric, and not just be a matter of poetic license? "Goldman's play is purposely peppered with anachronisms," Lippe noted, but "we did want to understand if the text could really support a mixed-race narrative."
A "Beautifully Gay" Connection
Upon researching the question, Lippe and Segel discovered that in the early medieval years, being a "bastard" did not necessarily preclude a person from claiming an inheritance. What mattered more was the status of the parents, not whether they were married. And just as the case is today, in medieval Western Europe, Black people existed at all levels of social strata, including nobility. Therefore, if Geoffrey was a child that Eleanor or Henry conceived with a Black noble person, then he too could indeed have a claim to Henry's crown.
"With this historical information," Lippe said, "Larry and I were so psyched, because we didn't have to ask for a suspension of disbelief with regard to skin color. We could go with this color conscious casting, with a Black man as Geoffrey, and introduce a really exciting element to our production that we had certainly never seen before in other productions of 'The Lion in Winter.'"
"This changes the subtext of some of the lines between Eleanor and Henry when they're talking about their extramarital affairs and their sons," Lippe added. "There are some marvelous moments now between Henry and Eleanor that relate to this issue. At one point Eleanor has just accused Henry of cheating on her with 'countless others.' Henry then says, 'What's your count? Let's have a tally of the bedspreads you've spread out on.' Eleanor suggests that there has only been one, and says that it was 'Thomas Becket's.' Henry pauses and then says with gravity, 'That's a lie.' Eleanor looks down, ashamed, and says, 'I know it.'"
Adding to the family complexities is the fact that King Philip II of France (played by Norman Dubois) is also Eleanor's stepson from a former marriage — and, in keeping with some historians' thesis that one of Henry and Eleanor's sons, Richard (Richie DeJesus), might have been gay, there's a hint of something sexual between the two young men.
"Our understanding is absolutely that Richard is gay and that he and Philip had a romantic relationship in the past," Lippe affirmed. "And we've really worked with the actors to create this beautiful, erotic scene where there's so much sexual tension."
"What I love about Richard is that he is this warrior, you know, this traditionally masculine presence," Lippe continued, pausing for a moment to note, and laugh at, her use of standard social gender conventions. But her descriptions convey Richard's strapping physical strength and aggression — "and yet," Lippe added, "there are these moments of tenderness where he becomes a little boy wrapped in Eleanor's arms, and then these moments where he's with Philip and a tender, beautiful sexuality emerges between them. It's just so erotic and incredible. And so, yes, we understand him to be beautifully sexual," Lippe said, "and beautifully gay."
Kilian Melloy
The Boston Theater Critics Association's Elliot Norton Awards Committee, the Boston Online Film Critics Association, Edge Media Network's Associate Arts Editor and Staff Contributor, National Lesbian and Gay Journalists Association, and The Gay and Lesbian Entertainment Critics Association.
Read this article on Edge Media Network >