Schoolchildren are introduced to Shakespeare as literature, which might not be the best idea. I slogged through King Lear in college, and then again this summer on behalf of my book group. In the interim, I was riveted by Robert Falls’s 2006 production at the Goodman. Lines I don’t follow on the page I reread until I parsed them; onstage they tumbled by, revealed in the acting. As theater, King Lear surrendered its secrets.
He was in the rehearsal hall when Frank and his actors wrestled with one of Ado’s best-known lines: “Kill Claudio,” says Beatrice to Benedick, the bickering adversaries at the center of the play. You might not guess it from reading the script, but this is a laugh line. Beatrice is serious: Claudio, who is Benedick’s friend, has just humiliated Hero, who is Beatrice’s pure and innocent cousin. Now—just as Beatrice and Benedick are allowing they might actually be in love with each other—Beatrice wants proof.
Today’s readers will puzzle out those 40 lines for what they mean; Much Ado’s actors scoured the words for the feelings behind them. Beatrice, having just admitted love to a man who immediately disappointed her, would feel a swirl of emotions. Walking us through the text line by line, just as Frank walked his actors, Lenehan points out that after she’s “disappointed” she’s “incredulous,” then tries to reason with Benedick but “erupts into anger,” reasons some more and erupts again, turns first “sarcastic” and then “woeful,” once more sarcastic, and winds up “reflective of the sad state of manhood.” (Was there a woman in the audience who couldn’t relate?)
