James Goldman’s cod-history play, which premiered in New York in 1966 and has never been seen on the London stage until now, is best known as a film with Peter O’Toole and Katharine Hepburn in which they and the rest of the cast were encouraged to go right over the top and give the inflated bickering the full theatrics. The result was an entertaining camp mixture of overwrought melodrama and high comedy flippancy with a bit of calculated bathos thrown in for good measure.
During Christmas 1183 King Henry II, his wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (whom he has imprisoned for the last 10 years), his three sons, his mistress, and Philip of France meet in Chinon to discuss who is going to be king when Henry dies. Is it to be bisexual Richard, or cretinous John or shrewd Geoffrey? Eleanor, who has never forgiven Henry for ditching her, favours Richard. Henry, inexplicably, favours John. Geoffrey, inevitably, feels left out. Three less prepossessing siblings it would be hard to imagine. The Lion in Winter is gloves-off, behind-the-arras intrigue, a sort of Angevins Who’s Afraid of Eleanor of Aquitaine? These royals, double and treble crossing each other, adore play-acting and regular compliment each other on their performances. Trevor Nunn’s revival is somewhat mechanical and Joanna Lumley is never quite the Medusa gorgon Hepburn was; but Robert Lindsay, who acted Henry II in Jean Anouilh’s Becket (a much better play), is in his element, especially when he is reeling off his curriculum vitae.