I Hate King Lear – Central Film School, London

4/5 stars

Every so often, you come across a production you know almost nothing about and leave wondering why more people aren't getting the opportunity to see it. I Hate King Lear was one of those. We caught this 45-minute one-night-only production at Central Film School as part of the Lambeth Fringe.

Written and performed by Emily Bowden, alongside Alexane Roger, who also directs, the play takes Shakespeare's King Lear and uses it to explore the rather complicated relationships within a contemporary family.

Phoebe, played by Bowden, is studying King Lear at school and has begun to see their own life reflected in Shakespeare's tragedy. Their father becomes the tyrannical king, they and their sisters take on the characteristics of his daughters, and the boundaries between fiction and reality become increasingly blurred. The arrival of their younger sister irreversibly changes the family dynamic. Eventually, Phoebe convinces themself that their eldest sister and closest ally intends to kill them.

The premise is intriguing because we've probably all recognised elements of our own lives in books, films or plays, although hopefully most of us haven't started casting our relatives as characters in a Shakespearean tragedy. Family Christmas would become considerably more complicated if we had!

I particularly liked how the production made Shakespeare feel relevant and accessible without requiring encyclopaedic knowledge of the original play. If you know King Lear, you'll appreciate additional layers, but the story works perfectly well without that knowledge. It’s a creative idea, beautifully executed.

The staging is wonderfully understated, as you would expect from a single-night fringe show. For much of the production, Phoebe and their older sister Heather, played by Roger, are around a table physically connected by a long rope, seemingly constructed from strips of fabric tied together. It's a simple but remarkably effective device, representing both the security of their relationship and the restrictions it places upon them. When the tether is eventually severed, it becomes a surprisingly powerful moment.

For me, it captured something rather profound about how we sometimes spend so much time wanting to escape the things that tie us to our lives, that create routine and stability, convinced that freedom will make everything better, without appreciating what those connections provide. It's only when they're gone that we realise what we've lost, and perhaps discover that the independence we desperately wanted isn't quite what we'd imagined. I thought it was a beautifully judged piece of symbolism, especially because the production trusted the audience to understand the message without overcomplicating the point.

The acting was excellent from both leads, particularly the contrast between Bowden and Roger. As Phoebe, Bowden delivers a wonderfully energetic and emotionally varied performance. They're almost constantly moving, with a nervous restlessness that makes it feel as though their thoughts are racing considerably faster than they can process them. There's something quite exhausting about watching them, and I mean that as a compliment.

They move effortlessly between vulnerability, frustration and increasingly irrational behaviour, yet remain entirely believable. Even when Phoebe's interpretation of events becomes questionable, you understand why they're reaching those conclusions. Bowden takes us on an engrossing journey without it ever feeling forced.

Roger, meanwhile, takes an almost completely opposite approach. As Heather, they spend much of the performance sitting virtually motionless. Remaining still on stage for an extended period might not sound particularly demanding, but there's a considerable difference between doing very little and making very little absolutely fascinating. Roger manages the latter.

Their stillness is mesmerising, with the smallest movement or change in expression suddenly carrying enormous significance. I found myself watching both performers, sometimes struggling to decide which one deserved my attention. That's quite an achievement when one of them is barely moving.

The contrast between Phoebe's frantic energy and Heather's almost unnerving composure creates a wonderful tension, and I thought Roger's understated but thoughtful direction made excellent use of their physical relationship.

What I particularly enjoyed about I Hate King Lear was that it didn't feel like a production trying to be clever simply for the sake of it. The concept genuinely said something about how we interpret the stories around us and use them to make sense of our own experiences.

Shakespeare's plays have survived for centuries because the emotions and relationships they explore remain recognisable. Jealousy, betrayal, resentment, and the complicated business of being part of a family haven't exactly gone out of fashion. Here, those themes are explored through someone who uses his text as a mirror to their own existence, however fanciful that may become. It's an interesting way of approaching Shakespeare, and one that made me think about King Lear from a perspective I hadn't previously considered.

At just 45 minutes, the production never outstayed its welcome. The combination of intelligent writing, strong performances and strategic staging came together to create something far more substantial than its running time suggests.

If I Hate King Lear gets another outing, I'd thoroughly recommend it. You don't need to love Shakespeare, and you certainly don't need to love King Lear, to appreciate what Bowden and Roger have created.

Although perhaps having a reasonably functional relationship with your siblings might help.

Accessibility at Central Film School

I contacted Central Film School in advance to check the accessibility arrangements and was reassured that they had both a ramp and a stairlift. Excellent, I thought. All sorted.

We checked the location on Google Maps, made our plans and arrived expecting a relatively straightforward evening. And, to be fair, that's exactly how it started.

Access involves negotiating several changes in level. Outside, there's a stairlift covering approximately eight steps, and inside, a long ramp covers four more steps. Everything worked perfectly on arrival. The staff were extremely helpful, escorting us through the building to the performance space, where they'd reserved a wheelchair position for me and an adjacent seat for my companion. There's also an accessible toilet in the basement, and staff can escort wheelchair users there if needed.

We settled in, thoroughly enjoyed the performance and headed towards the exit.

Then things became a little more interesting. Getting in was easy. Getting out, less so!

We reached the external stairlift, which had worked perfectly well when we'd arrived. Unfortunately, it had apparently decided that one journey was quite enough for the evening. It wouldn't move. The staff spent approximately 20 minutes trying to get it working, but eventually it became clear that the stairlift wasn't going anywhere.

Which was slightly unfortunate, because neither was I.

We considered our options, none of which was particularly appealing. Ultimately, I transferred out of my wheelchair and bum-shuffled down the steps while my companion very carefully manoeuvred my empty power chair down the ramp. The ramp was simply too steep for me to remain in the chair safely. With my extra weight, gravity would have become much more involved than I would have liked. It wasn't an ideal solution, but it got us out. I do want to emphasise that the staff were absolutely lovely throughout. They were incredibly apologetic, clearly concerned and did everything they could to help. I couldn't fault their willingness to assist.

It's tempting to associate these sorts of problems with smaller or fringe venues, particularly those operating in buildings that weren't originally designed as performance spaces. But equipment breaks down everywhere, including some of London's largest theatres. This experience highlights how dependent wheelchair users can be on a single piece of equipment.

Despite the rather unexpected ending to our evening, I wouldn't hesitate to return to Central Film School. The staff were excellent, and the performance space itself worked well for me.

I'm also rather grateful that the stairlift waited until after the show to give up. Had it happened on the way in, I might have missed a genuinely excellent piece of theatre.

Would I go back?

Absolutely.

Although next time I might give the stairlift a slightly suspicious look before trusting it with my evening.