I went to a screening of the National Theater's King Lear. Ian McKellen is great, of course. He dodders, he weeps readily, and when he's carousing with his knights, in fact when he does anything at all, walks or gestures or even stands and breathes, you can see how his ruined frame was once much stronger, how even his tremors now are those of a
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In retrospect, I like the things you liked too. Also Edmund. When Edgar disguises himself as a madman, you kind of have to pretend not to notice his gym body, or pretend no one else will notice it. Edmund plays up that aspect of himself--I forget which speech it was, and he was clothed, but he gestured to himself, like, look, just look at me.
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Anyhow infinitely better than Simon Russel Beale's Lear killing the Fool in a fit of Lewey Body dementia.
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O the understatement of the year!
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