Stage

One of the great pleasures of James Goldman's historical drama, the current offering from Appleseed Productions at the Atonement Lutheran Church, is that all the nasty plot points are laid out in the first five minutes, leaving two acts to savor clever dialogue rife with poisonous epigrams and winking anachronism.

Goldman invents a Christmas 1183 gathering for the family of King Henry II of England. For the occasion, he has temporarily released his wife, Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine, from the castle in which he has imprisoned her. Also on hand are their three venomous sons--Richard the Lionhearted, Geoffrey and John--as well as Alais, the king's young mistress, and her brother, King Philip II of France. The line of succession is the issue at hand.

Director John Poorman wisely allows his cast room to tear into the text and they make the most of the opportunity. For the most part, they do this without chewing the scenery. The set itself is spartan but an effective theater-in-the-round arrangement that provides an appropriate battlefield for a war of words. Occasionally, however, this setup forces actors into awkward positions, with their backs to most of the audience for long periods of time.

Henry's sons are sharply delineated by a first-rate trio of actors. As played by David Witanowski, Geoffrey stands rigid in his aloneness, icily calculating and presumably soulless. Joshua Ball's John is a petulant child, whining and rolling his eyes in disgust. However, as he is not made to look as physically repellent as required in the script, which calls him "scabby" and "a pustule," the thought of John as potential king isn't quite as distasteful as it might be. The Lion In Winter also presents a Richard the Lionhearted distinctly different from the absent hero of the Robin Hood legend. As portrayed by Robb Sharpe, Richard is a preening warrior.

Alais, the apparent prize in the succession game, is nicely enacted by Rachael Maurer, whose noble bearing and intelligent delivery suggest an inner core of strength perhaps equal to Eleanor herself. Graydon Brown's Philip comes off as callow and ineffectual.

As Henry, Bill Molesky easily commands attention. His verbal jousts with Eleanor shower the stage with verbal sparks. Molesky plays the king as a sort of medieval Tony Soprano: ruthless, powerful, yet helpless when the adversary is his own family.

Although she initially starts off on a strident note, missing some of Goldman's comic nuances, Joanne Rowan's Eleanor of Aquitaine gathers steam as the show progresses. The final confrontations with her fractious family are both bracing and moving. After all, Eleanor reminds us, "What family doesn't have its ups and downs?"

This production runs through April 3. See Times Table for information.

--Len Fonte