No argument about who’s the king of Broadway right now: It’s William Shakespeare. The guy’s got four shows on the Great White Way — the first time since 1987 that there’s been such a pileup — and he doesn’t get royalties or take forever for rewrites. A producer’s dream!
Unlike Orlando Bloom’s “Romeo and Juliet” and Ethan Hawke’s “Macbeth,” the alternating productions of “Richard III” and “Twelfth Night” that just opened at the Belasco don’t boast a big marquee name.
Well, they happen to be led by Mark Rylance, but this two-time Tony winner (“Jerusalem,” “Boeing-Boeing”) is an actor’s actor rather than a Page Six fixture.
And here he pulls off a total stage-freak feat: Depending on the day, Rylance either plays the titular crippled schemer in “Richard III” or the noble lady Olivia in “Twelfth Night.”
The shows are presented in repertory by London’s Shakespeare’s Globe. They kick it old-school: with an all-male cast in period 17th-century costumes — which they put on in full view of the audience in an entertaining pre-show ritual.
The result, directed by Tim Carroll, is a feast for the senses.
A band positioned at the top of a gallery in the back of the stage performs a live score on sackbuts, recorders, lutes and the like. Much of the lighting comes from candles, and you occasionally hear the splat of hot wax hitting the stage. As for the outfits, they were made using only fabrics and techniques available in Shakespeare’s era.
Men playing women also adds a fascinating layer — even if back then it was boys rather than adults. You do get used to it, though the hall-of-mirror effect is particularly troubling in the gender-bending “Twelfth Night.”
That play creates an enchanting atmosphere — and a very funny one. Rylance looks fantastic in his huge black dress and corpse-white makeup. Gliding around as if on a hidden moving platform, he milks all the humor and pathos out of his character’s sudden passion for Cesario — who’s really Viola, a young woman disguised as a boy.
Samuel Barnett (“The History Boys”) is a winsome Viola, as eloquent as she is romantic. And the comic second bananas take advantage of every single opportunity to score laughs, especially Paul Chahidi as a deceptively prim Maria, the scheming lady in waiting.
Too bad Stephen Fry, the gadfly actor and writer, doesn’t sell his oddly demure Malvolio. He looks so noble that the idea of Olivia falling for him isn’t entirely preposterous.
We lose Fry in “Richard III,” where Barnett strikes again as Queen Elizabeth, while Joseph Timms — a dead ringer for Viola as her twin brother in “Twelfth Night” — gives us a hauntingly sad Lady Anne.
But this show belongs to Rylance.
His Richard uses his deformity to look pathetic and better manipulate his victim — watch him make people uncomfortable with his atrophied hand, which hangs from his cape like a mummified monkey paw. Acting like a sad, bumbling clown, Richard gets laughs. It’s a fascinating choice, even if we lose a lot of Richard’s evil edge.
“Twelfth Night” is the better show, but seeing both productions lets you watch the actors slip into completely different roles. You’re not just going to the theater — you’re experiencing what makes it magic.