King Lear

Written by William Shakespeare

Directed by Jonathan Miller

Starring Christopher Plummer

Lincoln Center, New York

Rating: ***

Homesick Canadians may do an exuberant double-take upon walking into the Vivian Beaumont Theater at Lincoln Center these days. There, in the middle of New York's frenzied metropolis, is a rustic piece of home: A duplicate of Stratford's familiar and timeworn Festival Theatre stage has been constructed with loving respect for a new production of King Lear based on Stratford's jewel in the crown of its 50th anniversary in 2002. This Lear brings Christopher Plummer from one home to another, from his career launching pad of Stratford to Broadway, the site of his greatest professional triumphs.

The idea of home is vital to director Jonathan Miller's approach, which sees the king's tragedy as a dysfunctional domestic drama writ large. To be sure, there is epic court-toppling mischief in the air from the quiet opening moment, when Geraint Wyn Davies's slippery Edmund strolls in from the shadows and, occupying the stage alone, runs a deliberate, desirous finger across one of the king's tables. But the larger implications are soon overtaken by the simple shock of seeing Lear stumbling into the picture leaning on his faithful Fool. Here is a frail and forgetful sovereign who, recognizing he is beyond his prime, takes a legitimate pre-emptive step to divide his kingdom before his death.

Miller gives us the funniest King Lear possible, drawing us in with comedy that sets a baseline measure from which the tragedy seems all the more steep and horrific. Lucy Peacock and Domini Blythe are deliciously spoiled as Regan and Goneril, two gals who get their hauteur from dad, and our laughter at Edmund's roguish romantic conquests and court plotting makes us complicit in his evil.

Most of the principal cast remains intact from the Stratford production, with Brent Carver stepping in as Edgar, Wyn Davies taking over Edmund, and Claire Jullien as Cordelia. Though it may seem ungracious to point out, not all of the American replacements for their Canadian counterparts in the ensemble are as strong as might be.

But Miller's direction and Plummer's star turn are what drive this production. There are insightful hints here that we are witnessing not so much a king with his clamouring heirs as an infirm father supported by indulgent daughters in his self-delusion of control. As Lear luxuriates in Goneril's and Regan's gaudy pronouncements of love during their naked bids for a slice of his kingdom, he wags a playful finger and gives a chuckle that suggests he and his girls have often played this sort of game. So when Cordelia impetuously refuses to take her third of the kingdom by exaggerating her love for him, perhaps because she alone recognizes the grave and different stakes in this contest, his outrage is understandable.

But then Regan, too, seems entirely reasonable when she protests her father's desire to keep a large retinue. "This house is little!" she pleads to Goneril, embarrassed as an Elizabethan Martha Stewart that she has had to admit the limitations of her domestic situation in front of others. These family ties are scuffed and conflicted, and they carry real baggage. So it is a disappointment that Miller has directed Jullien's Cordelia to be as emotionally cool as the shimmering icy blue dress she wears in the opening scene. This flattens the love between her and Lear, and injects an antiseptic note into their relationship that has the effect of later short-circuiting our tears for their mutual loss.

The relationship between Lear and his Fool, on the other hand, is as rich and old as fine port, and Plummer and Barry MacGregor seem like old friends up there. MacGregor is an eminently sensible Fool, patiently leading his master to an understanding of his own infirmities and growing madness.

And what a madness it is. Plummer, boasting Graydon Carter flyaway silvery wings, layers his descent into darkness with furious flashes of light. He plucks comic moments from the bleakest possibilities, showing a familiar sight to anyone who has watched a parent or grandparent age: a dignified man trying to cling to his humanity even as his capabilities desert him.

Yet Plummer, who can ham it up better than Nathan Lane, chooses to play against the self-pity, offering an emotionally restrained take on Lear that engages the mind but leaves the heart untouched. This production began its slow march to Broadway after the New York Times' chief drama critic Ben Brantley saw it at Stratford and declared it a wonder. He topped this in his review for the current staging, writing that Plummer "creates a performance for the ages." Some other American critics followed suit, helping to ensure that, in future years, people will speak of this production in reverent and wistful tones, particularly those who didn't get the chance to see it. Those who were there will remember being impressed with its intelligence, but unmoved.

King Lear continues to April 18. 212-947-8844 or http://www.lct.org.