Kevin Kline (cool) as King Lear
Photo by Michal Daniel
Courtesy of The Public Theatre

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Gretchen M. Michelfeld first fell in love with William Shakespeare at Vassar College where she got her BA in English and Drama. She later got her MFA in Theatre from Sarah Lawrence. She has taught Shakespearean Verse, Voice and Movement, and Acting at SUNY Albany, Texas A&M University and the American Academy of Dramatic Arts.

As an actress Gretchen has worked with many New York theatre companies including New Georges, HERE Arts Center, Blue Wren Rep, Ensemble Studio Theatre, The Actors Company Theatre, Peculiar Works, MadShag, and The Women's Project. She is a co-creator of the award winning international comic hit, LESBIAN PULP-O-RAMA! She was also a 2002 International Artistic Fellow at Shakespeare's Globe Theatre in London.

Besides penning numerous LESBIAN PULP-O-RAMA! pieces, Gretchen is the author of two one-act plays, including The Notary's Tale, which was workshopped by New Georges in 2005. She has completed her first full-length play, Nellie Bly: a fantasia, which was workshopped by New Georges in March, 2007 and will be read at The Lark in January 2008.

Gretchen is a New Georges Affiliated Artist and a Drama League nominator, and she serves as the Membership Coordinator of the Society of Stage Directors and Choreographers. She lives with her partner, writer/director Beatrice Terry, in Washington Heights, Manhattan. They have part-time custody of a cat named "Boyfriend."

Kevin Kline is Cool
by Gretchen M. Michelfeld
Posted: July 17, 2007

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; Kevin Kline is the single best American Shakespearean actor alive. His seemingly effortless mastery of the Bard’s verse and his exquisite physicality have helped him create unforgettable portraits of some of Shakespeare’s greatest characters. His Hamlet, in a rarely shown 1990 PBS presentation of the play (which he also directed,) is thrilling. His sublime Bottom is the only reason to see the jaw-droppingly dreadful 1999 film version of A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM. In 2003 he totally classed up PBS’s ill-conceived SHAKESPEARE SESSIONS, in which Shakespearean guru John Barton coddles and cajoles TV and movie stars as they vivisect and stir-fry some of the Bard’s best-loved scenes (Note to Cynthia Nixon: invest in some better reading glasses!)

If you are a New Yorker, you might have had the great good fortune to see Kline portray Benedick, Duke Vincentio, Richard III, and even my man Hank V, in Central Park. Truly, folks, this guy is the real deal, and I have adored old KK ever since I first squirmed in my seat while watching his super-sexy Pirate King swash-buckle onto the Broadway stage when my 9th grade class went to see THE PIRATES OF PENZANCE!

But Kline as Lear?  Hmmmm.… could be very ouchy...

When the Public Theatre announced last season that Kline would be playing Shakespeare’s oldest and crankiest tragic hero, everyone who cares about these things winced in disbelief. Kline is elegant. Kline is witty. Kline is beautiful. Kline is buff. Kline is at the peak of his manhood. King Lear? Rage-against-the-storm, disown-your-youngest-daughter, tear-off-your-clothes-to-become-the-“thing-itself” LEAR? And directed by James Lapine (of 25th ANNUAL PUTNAM COUNTY SPELLING BEE fame?) It just didn’t sound like a good idea.

So I pretty much decided to skip it. In fact I put my hands over my ears and pretended it wasn’t even happening. Yes, I take these things a little too personally, what’s it to ya?

So then, this chick my girlfriend knows got comps and offered to take her. So then, my well-meaning girlfriend asked her to get a ticket for me too and made plans for us all to meet there. So then, I read some of the reviews. Then I read more reviews. They were dreadful. DREADFUL. Ben Brantley of the New York Times—the most lightweight of all New York critics—called the production “Lear Lite.” Matthew Murray, of Talkin’ Broadway, proclaimed, “Santa Claus has come back to town.” Brantley accused Lapine of creating a New Age, touchy-feely KING LEAR. Murray said it was cold and unmoving. Either way it was not looking good. When I read Michael Feingold’s review in the Village Voice, comparing Kline to a John Farleigh woodcut of George Bernard Shaw, I was frantic. I felt like a rat on a glue-trap. Whatever this misguided creation was, I wanted nothing to do with it. So I did what I usually do in such dire circumstances; I called my mom and bitched. She just laughed and said she was spending the day drinking coffee and reading the paper and she’d think of me with pity, and how long was the running time? She’d call me in seven hours. Damn. I had to go. I slapped on some more mascara and tried not to furrow my brow. I went back for a cardigan; those damn theatres are always over-air conditioned. I stocked up on gum so I wouldn’t fall asleep.

Finally, I got there and made some inane small talk with people and tried not to openly stare at the sublimely gorgeous Meryl Streep who sat down three feet away from me as the lights were dimming. “Here goes,” I sulked silently to myself. “I wonder how much gum Meryl has in that sweet little Gucci bag of hers.” And that was the last nasty thought I had.

And here’s the thing about Shakespeare; as long as the language is clear and the directorial choices don’t belie the text, who am I (nay, who is anyone!?) to say that there is any one way a great tragic hero must be played. Why can’t Lear be handsome? Why can he not be witty? It’s often said that each man has his own Hamlet. Well clearly each man has his Lear as well, and Kline’s was a revelation to me. His Lear was a king who was used to being adored and adorable. When Lear decides to divide his kingdom amongst his three daughters, and his youngest, Cordelia, refuses to play the “who loves daddy most” game, most actors playing the scene quake with rage and roar out Cordelia’s dismissal. Kline played the scene with utter disbelief, and increasing attempts to be charming. When she stuck to her guns, he grew bored with her. Tired of not being fawned over, he rejected her with seduction in his voice and a brittle smile on his face:

Here I disclaim all my paternal care,
Propinquity and property of blood,
And as a stranger to my heart and me
Hold thee from this forever. (I.i.)

Imagine your own father doing that to you. How much more terrifying would it be to be disowned in a whimsical manner than to be bellowed and blustered at? 

As most of you know, Lear is betrayed by his other two daughters, who have hypocritically flattered him to get their share of his kingdom. He ends up wandering on the heath in the middle of a fierce storm. It’s often said that King Lear is the storm. His rage parallels that of Mother Nature’s worst violence. And Kline’s storm was formidable. But it was also beautiful. It was funny. And again I say, why not? Who does not look up at thunderous summer sky and tingle with excitement and possibility, afraid of but thrilled by nature’s majesty? Who does not occasionally giggle with fear. And yes, Kevin Kline is gorgeous. The tragedy of his decline did not hold the same poignancy as that of an older and more fragile man abandoned by his family and wandering aimlessly in the stormy night. No, it was not the same. But it was just as devastating. Watching him look at his still-powerful body and realize that he was losing his mind—that the muddle in his brain did not match up with the sinews of his muscles—was an indescribably tragic experience for me, and for everyone around me. And the irony and wit, the twinkle in his eye, the self-awareness that infused his reunion with Cordelia, made me weep.

LEAR. Where have I been?  Where am I?  Fair day-light?
I am mightily abused. I should even die with pity
To see another thus. I know not what to say.
I will not swear these are my hands: let’s see;
I feel this pin prick. Would I were assured
Of my condition!

CORDELIA. Oh! Look upon me, sir.
And hold your hands in benediction o’er me.
No, sir, you must not kneel.

LEAR. Pray, do not mock me:
I am a very foolish fond old man,
Fourscore and upward, not an hour more or less;
And, to deal plainly,
I fear I am not in my perfect mind.  (IV. vii.)

I have always held that humor is a very serious business. Ugliness and violence is inherent in all comedy. It helps us turn a mirror on ourselves, to see our own prejudices and selfishness. On the flip side, the ability to see the lighter side of darkness is what makes us human. And that’s what Kevin Kline does in all of his glorious work. He is the coolest of the cool, man.

Good news for all my fellow Kev lovers as well as for the newly Kline-curious readers of this page! My other great love, Kenneth Branagh, is (as I write this!) filming AS YOU LIKE IT for HBO, and Kevin Kline is playing Jacques! Talk about light and darkness and the totality of the human experience. Watch Kline deliver one of the best speeches the Bard has ever written about age and aging. Yes, there is death in all that is beautiful, but there is beauty in death as well. Have I mentioned that I love Shakespeare? Have I mentioned I love Kevin Kline? Meryl loves him too. She led the standing ovation at the matinee that day, cheering and stomping her feet. Damn, that lady is cool. 

Copyright © 2007 Gretchen M. Michelfeld