‘The King’s Whore” bills itself as “a modern/historical mash-up of King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn’s debacle of a relationship.” But Rob Santana’s play — the first effort by Starcatcher Productions — is more like a mash-up between Showtime’s sexed-up “The Tudors” and a university theater production.
Here, amid the romantic and court intrigues during Henry’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon and on through his betrothal to the ill-fated Anne, are a distracting blend of the Bard and the bold.
“Ay, caramba!” the Spanish-born Catherine cries when she spies the hunky king, who sports a muscle-baring tank top and lots of bling. The lime-green set features wooden furniture that might have come from Ikea, with giant throw pillows featuring the initials H and C — the C later replaced with an A — and the actors occasionally break into hip-hop dance routines, as if they were auditioning for a backup spot on a Lady Gaga tour.
Director Jen Wineman doesn’t manage to bring coherence to the wildly shifting theatrical styles, and the youthful cast is mostly at sea. Carl Hendrick Louis seems to be channeling Eddie Murphy with his manic Henry, while Kate O’Phalen’s Anne hardly seems seductive enough to inspire royal passion, let alone beheading. Only a few performances, such as Laura Esposito’s striking Catherine, rise above the level of caricature.
There’s certainly plenty of juicy drama in this oft-told tale — some guy named Shakespeare did a pretty good job with his “Henry VIII.” But this rendition is too silly to be taken seriously, and not outlandish enough to qualify as a spoof. And at 2 1/2 hours, it quickly wears out its welcome. Adding insult to injury: There was no air conditioning, and the theater was stifling — as if the audience hadn’t suffered enough.