Casting an able-bodied actor as Richard III isn’t ‘offensive’

The row over Richard III rumbles on. Disability groups have objected to the Globe’s forthcoming production in which Michelle Terry will take the lead. The able-bodied Terry, who happens to be the Globe’s artistic director, has apologised ‘for the pain or harm that has been caused by the decision for me to play Richard III.’

This carefully worded statement gives the impression that some external authority reached ‘the decision’ to award her the role but was that really the case? Casting decisions at the Globe, she goes on, are made ‘rigorously’ and ‘always in dialogue with members of our many communities.’ One of the ‘communities’ she seems to have ignored is the fellowship of white male actors for whom the bulk of Shakespeare’s parts were written. But their absence is so routine that no one even notices these days. 

The Disability Actors Alliance published an open letter complaining about the ‘inauthentic casting’ of Terry but they failed to mention that Richard is a man and Terry is a woman. Never mind. The letter states that Richard ‘experiences and documents the socialised effect of an attitudinally disabling society.’ In English, that seems to mean that a performer with a disability can understand Richard more easily than an able-bodied rival. Good point. And it’s self-evidently true. A black actor is better placed than a white actor to grasp Othello’s predicament, and a thesp whose dad is a billionaire can embrace Hamlet’s psyche more readily than a boy from a council estate. 

And yet the argument is already starting to fall apart. The council estate actor may be more imaginative, charismatic, talented and handsome than his wealthy rival. And a casting director has to look at factors beyond the mere biography (or ‘lived experience’) of a candidate. If we reject every actor whose background doesn’t match the character’s CV, we’ll face insurmountable limitations. Only a Danish prince with mental health problems can play Hamlet. Only a Moroccan general who lives in Venice can play Othello. The role of Antony must go to an alcoholic sex-addict. Macbeth can only be interpreted by a Scottish warlord married to a woman who lost a child in infancy. And the only person qualified to play Julius Caesar is Julius Caesar. 

The theatre doesn’t work like that because it deals with fables and inventions and it relies on the imaginative powers of the actors and the audience to create its magic. The disability lobby sees it differently and they take a humdrum, legalistic view of Shakespeare. They appear to regard Richard III as part of an ongoing court-case against society. In its open letter, the Disability Actors Alliance asks theatre-makers to ‘stand with us and work harder to implement more inclusive work practices.’ 

It’s easy to see where this desire to possess the role originates. Richard has such a powerful hold over our imaginations that he sometimes appears to embody, and even to define, our collective notion of disability. Hence the argument that able-bodied performers shouldn’t accept the part. Physical impairment, as the Disability Actors Alliance says, ‘isn’t something one can wear for the sake of a show and remove in the dressing room.’ However, disabled people aren’t the only ones with immutable qualities that Shakespeare sometimes uses and misuses. The character of Polonius in Hamlet is a garrulous old fool but an elderly male viewer would be unwise to feel personally affronted by the caricature on stage. Ophelia is portrayed as an inexperienced virgin besotted with an unsuitable boyfriend but her example doesn’t encourage all teenage girls to conduct their romantic lives in the same way. And what about Hamlet’s pliable but impotent sidekick, Horatio? Must every man with that name spend his life as a helpless underling, always watching great events but never shaping them? Nelson didn’t think so. 

The Disability Actors Alliance calls Terry’s decision to play Richard ‘offensive’ and ‘distasteful’, and they claim that the text ‘can’t be successfully performed’ with her in the lead. They even call for ‘an immediate recasting’ which is overstepping the mark. Or rather, two marks at once. They aren’t Shakespeare’s literary executors and they don’t own the Globe. An artistic director must enjoy complete creative liberty and Terry is right to reject their overtures. The audience will judge the results. Each of us, whatever our physical condition, is free to found our own Shakespearean troupe and to hire any actors we choose. But we shouldn’t turn up at someone else’s production and try to nab the juiciest role for ourselves and our favourites.

Restricting auditions to an elite group of applicants will ultimately cheat the audience of excellence. It’s like the campaign to give Shakespeare’s roles to anyone but a white actor. Quality suffers. Art stagnates because the talent-pool is narrower than it might be.