Mike Bartlett’s formidably crafted play “King Charles III” is one of those juicy dramas based on a big, audacious, outrageous idea: What if, following the death of Queen Elizabeth II and the ascendancy of the long-frustrated Prince of Wales, the new King Charles III decided that he wanted to meddle in the affairs of his own Parliament and refuse to sign a dodgy bill duly passed by the democratically elected representatives of the British people?
When I first saw “King Charles III,” now at Chicago Shakespeare Theater with the British actor Robert Bathurst in the lead role, on Broadway last season, I remember being wholly entertained by such a wild, fascinating premise, especially one that drew from what we know about the character of Prince Charles, a rather wacky, scandal-battered and seemingly sheltered royal who, as the British like to say, is known for popping off on various subjects — architecture being one — close to his regal heart.
Here is a play about a constitutional crisis in a country that lacks a formal constitution. And it works so well in the theater because it naturally cascades into complications. If Parliament then chose to pass the bill anyway, King Charles could simply dissolve his Parliament. They formally serve, after all, at the pleasure of the queen or king. But would the people stand for that?
The British monarchy — especially as it relates to Australia, New Zealand and Canada — is inextricably linked to the presence and constancy of Queen Elizabeth II. She cannot live forever (although, God save her), and once a different personality wears the crown, all bets will, to some degree, be off.
But back in 2015, one watched this play completely convinced nothing like this ever could happen. Never. Never. Never.
Then came Brexit. Then, just last week, came the election of Donald J. Trump. Then came the ascent of presidential adviser Steve Bannon, a bridge too far for many.
And — not that it quite came to pass — how would the House of Windsor have dealt with Scottish independence? How would that have meshed with the monarchical oath to defend all corners of the realm, including those to the north?
All of a sudden, everything Bartlett wrote in 2014 feels a lot more credible.
Many of the lines in this play — which is, by the way, written entirely in the style of a Shakespearean tragic-history, replete with ghost, soliloquies and filial betrayal — pop with a whole new vivacity. Do they ever. The presence of such other real-life characters as Prince William (Jordan Dean), Prince Harry (Alec Manley Wilson), Kate Middleton (Amanda Drinkall) and Camilla Parker Bowles (Kate Skinner) notwithstanding.
Waves of verbalized reaction could be heard in the theater Wednesday night, as Chicagoans digested a drama about stability, crisis, checks and balances and, well, drastic, revolutionary, precedent-shattering change, which, by the way, inherently is predicated on a lack of checks and balances. A Trumpian level of change was on people’s minds, you might say, and you might say that regardless of whom you supported.
So. At this stateside moment, “King Charles III” feels very much like essential viewing; its metaphors are very thinly veiled now. But it’s not some kind of tough, required poli-sci slog — Bartlett, who has satirical bones, also is very interested in William, Harry and Kate, the young generation of royals who carry some of the insouciant legacy of the late Princess Diana (who shows up as a ghost via Sarah Chalcroft, who clearly has studied how the Princess of Wales held her head) and who understands that, these days one also has to be King and Queen of the Column Inches.
Or, as President-elect Trump might say, of the Twitter.
Bartlett also picks up on the young British royals’ tabloid identities, imagining a working-class girlfriend, (forcefully played by Rae Gray) for his Hal-like Harry, a faux-Falstaffian young republican named Jess who dangles the promise of a normal life — a car, a house, a job, a consummation devoutly to be wished. More than once.
Notwithstanding the remarkable work of the original star Tim Pigott-Smith, director Gary Griffin’s superbly staged production is — on balance — deeper and better than the Broadway production, which was flashier and, in style and substance, trashier. This is a quieter, more honest, more truthful, Chicago-style take on a fine play that, given its style, was begging to be seen in a thrust stage like we have on Navy Pier. It deserves to be a big holiday hit.
The main difference between CST and Broadway is actors like Sean Fortunato and David Lively, who plays the fictional prime minister and his oppositional shadow. They show us the emotional cost of what is transpiring even as they thrust forward the often-comic presence. Much of the rest of the show was cast in New York, although Drinkall holds her own magnificently as the shrewd Duchess of Cambridge, amid the work of Dean and Wilson, two square-jawed guys, one with pate topped with ginger, who really look and talk like the real McCoys.
Dean is especially fine in this show, making it really feel like you are watching the wheels turn in a royal figure who remains something of an enigma. And the excellent, often moving Bathurst, known to some from “Downton Abbey,” makes far more of a case for poor Charles, downplaying, without eschewing, his goofiness and emphasizing his sincerity and (he thinks) moral certitude that the monarchy must be more than a “pretty, plastic picture with no meaning.”
It’s a very different performance from the original, and one that seems to better fit this moment.
I wouldn’t say every class-marker of English verbiage is there. And I wish you believed more that the relationship between Harry and Jess might actually work; it lacks some of the requisite softer side or republican possibility. But those are minor complaints about a show that makes Griffin’s second big Chicago hit of the fall (“Hand to God” was the other) and offers a further reminder of how essential this director’s work is to the theater of this city. He collaborates here with the fine designers Scott Davis, Mara Blumenfeld, Philip Rosenberg and Joel Shier, who combine for unfussy, medium-bore regality, which is all the play needs.
“My life has been a longing for the throne,” says Bathurst’s King Charles, struggling through what is basically the British monarchy’s version of what is going on right now inside Trump Tower, minus, one assumes, the self-reflective insecurity. Charles has no idea what he is doing — such transitions occur infrequently. “People expect me to have opinions,” he says.
Voters do too. So then what?
Chris Jones is a Tribune critic.
Twitter @ChrisJonesTrib
Review: “King Charles III” (4 stars)
When: Through Jan. 15
Where: Chicago Shakespeare Theater on Navy Pier
Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes
Tickets: $48-$88 at 312-595-5600 or chicagoshakes.com
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