When Murder Is Sport, ‘Richard III’ Throws Strikes

Ron Campbell’s exuberant performance as the limping, hunchback Richard in Shakespeare Orange County’s handsomely mounted production of “The Tragedy of King Richard III” does not defy expectations so much as redefine them.

The play, which opened Friday at the Waltmar Theatre, gives him one of the kinkiest roles in the Shakespearean canon to exploit his inventive histrionic talent. The part is huge and fascinating. And the plot, which chronicles a grab for power and domination already begun in “Henry VI, Part III,” is packed with bloody action.

Of the various Richards I’ve seen, the two best versions were Ian McKellen’s characterization three years ago in UCLA’s Royce Hall and Laurence Olivier’s 1955 movie portrayal.

Olivier gave us a duplicitous, conniving, ingratiating monster whose greatest satisfaction seemed to be letting the audience in on his Machiavellian plan to usurp the throne. His Richard revealed it for his own delectation as much as ours, drawing us in with the sly intimacy of a co-conspirator who expects--at times demands--congratulations for his oily, overweening egotism.

McKellen offered a more imperious Nazified psychopath, cold and distant, yet capable of volcanic eruptions. With the calculation of a serial killer and the volatility of a seething homicidal maniac, his Richard put a premium on the sinister cruelty of a repulsive sadist whose physical deformities paled beside his psychic wounds.

Campbell conceals Richard’s limp with the excited gait of someone who gets up on his heels instead of his toes. It is a goose-step in comic disguise. He also minimizes Richard’s lopsided back, giving the impression that it results from a warped temperament rather than a hereditary condition.

As for Richard’s lame arm, usually hidden beneath his black cape, it sometimes makes an emphatic appearance. Campbell extends it like the wing of a raptor settling on its prey. And when he takes the glove off his crippled hand, don’t ask. It resembles a claw induced by thalidomide.

Campbell’s interpretation falls much closer to Olivier’s end of the spectrum in its dynamic physicality and in the perverse joy he takes at the mere prospect of hacking his way to the throne. Murder is sport to him. Even Lady Macbeth, no piker in Richard’s line of work, was consumed by guilt. Richard wouldn’t know what conscience is if it walked up and smacked him.

Contemptuous of everyone, henchmen and allies included, Richard is titillated by his own cleverness--unfortunately, as Campbell plays him, a little too much so. When he lets the audience in on his machinations, he gets more wink-wink than insinuating. Everything tends to lie on the surface. Although he brings a thousand wonderful tics to the role and a voice that could penetrate steel, the overall friskiness of his performance nearly undermines its authority.

Campbell gets top-notch support from Gannon Daniels as the attractive Lady Anne, a role presented with a seemingly impossible task. Daniels must make us believe in Anne’s hatred for Richard though it doesn’t take much for her to succumb to his wooing.

The seduction scene is absurd on the face of it. Richard presses his suit over the corpse of her beloved husband, no less, whom she knows he has murdered. But while Campbell must play the scene for laughs--”Was ever woman in this humour woo’d? / Was ever woman in this humour won?”--Daniels makes it credible by persuading us of her pathos and humiliation.

Teri Ciranna shines in a riveting performance as fiery Queen Margaret, the elderly widow of Henry VI. She lays a curse on Richard that just about stops the show with its impassioned burst of energy. Eve Himmelheber also gives a fine performance as another of Richard’s victims, the widow of his brother King Edward IV.

Among the large, uneven cast of men, John Shouse’s Clarence verges on affecting. If director Carl Reggiardo can be faulted for anything besides the klunky battle scenes, it is the surprisingly uninspired performances he draws from the other men in the cast.

But in one of his more notable directorial touches, he elicits unusually well-shaped portrayals of Richard’s two child victims. Most productions offer inert characterizations of these roles. Young Jonathan Ficcadenti is particularly striking, and Dina A. Bartello as his slightly older brother gives an articulate performance.

This “Richard III” acquits itself beautifully in all the technical departments, though the lighting cues sometimes went wrong on opening night. The costume and set designs were outstanding, and the incidental music had a portentous quality that was not overdone. Though Shakespeare Orange County’s production may not be for the ages, it’s classy enough to enjoy.

* “The Tragedy of King Richard III,” Waltmar Theatre, Chapman University, 310 E. Palm St., Orange. Thurs.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. Ends Aug. 12. $21-$23. (714) 744-7016. Running time: 3 hours.

Donald Sage Mackay: King Edward IV

John Shouse: George, Duke of Clarence

Ron Campbell: Richard, Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III

Eve Himmelheber: Queen Elizabeth

Dina A. Bartello: Edward, Duke of Wales

Jonathan Ficcadenti: Richard, Duke of York

Gannon Daniels: Lady Anne

Jo Black-Jacobs: Duchess of York

Teri Ciranna: Queen Margaret

Daniel Bryan Cartmell: Duke of Buckingham

Carl Reggiardo: Lord Hastings

John-Frederick Jones: Lord Stanley

David J. Anderson: Catesby

Donald Sage Mackay: Henry, Earl of Richmond

Thom Taylor: Lord Mayor of London

Scott Bramble: Archbishop of York

A Shakespeare Orange County production of a play by William Shakespeare. Directed by Carl Reggiardo. Set design: Don Gruber. Costume design: Cathy Crane-McCoy. Lighting design: David Darwin. Sound design: Craig Brown. Choreography: Tim Weske. Stage manager: W. Brian Hugo.