Michael Urie Photo by Carol Rosegg

True, Urie has made a name for himself as a comic actor, including in Red Bull's very funny take on The Inspector General, as well as in Broadway productions of Spamalot, Once Upon a Mattress, and, just a few months back, playing Mary's Teacher in Oh, Mary!. But he is also quite at home playing dramatic roles. He has even played Hamlet, for goodness sake. So, please stifle the preemptive giggles as Urie takes on Richard II and seizes the opportunity to breathe a new interpretation into the play, here adapted and directed by Craig Baldwin.

As is often the case with a Red Bull production, there are some over-the-top moments, queer set pieces, and interpolated bits of pop music, notably the Eurythmics' great synth-pop song, "Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This"), as well as an array of modern costumes that are meant to layer a 1980s feel onto the late 16th century play. But Baldwin-as-adaptor hasn't messed around very much with Shakespeare's language and poetry, which land with beauty and clarity on the ear, while Baldwin-as-director has focused on making things accessible to contemporary audiences.

Given the attempt to paste "now" atop "then" (a cosmetic effort, at best), the production is not entirely successful, but the acting throughout is quite strong, and the whole boasts two particular strengths: the clarity of the main storyline and the portrayal of Richard. Both of these rely on the characterization of this weak king, the last of the Plantagenet line, who surrounds himself with sycophants and flatterers and oversteps his bounds once too often.

That breach lies in his actions against Henry Bolingbroke (Grantham Coleman), whom Richard banishes and then strips of his title and property. Not a brilliant move, it would seem, since Bolingbroke ultimately dethrones Richard and becomes Henry IV. Coleman, Ron Canada as his father John of Gaunt, and Kathryn Meisle as the Duchess of York make for a powerful and thoroughly believable team here, so that side to the equation comes together most eloquently and credibly.

On the other side sits Richard, his socialite queen (Lux Pascal), and his entourage. The conceit here is that first we come upon Richard post-usurpation, stripped of his crown and most of his clothing as he sits in a cell (a rotating glass box designed by Arnulfo Maldonado), awaiting his fate and trying to piece together through remembered conversations and actions how it is he finds himself in this sorry state. Even when he is not directly involved in the action, Urie is often on stage, listening in and observing, but, ultimately, unable to come to grips with his own role in his downfall.

Herein lies the production's greatest strength, Richard's clinging to the belief that the throne is his by divine right, and that whatever has befallen him is an affront to God as much as to his royal self, a nepo baby of his time. There is a certain amount of youthful petulance in his actions, befitting the situation since, in actuality, Richard was 10 years old when he ascended to the throne and was barely 30 when he died. But Urie also finds ways to signal a sense of irony and cynicism into the portrayal, which, perhaps, is the most successfully modern interpolation into Shakespeare's seldom-produced history play. Makes me wonder what the actor could do with the role of prodigal son Prince Hal in the ensuing Henriad plays.