Last night upon the theatre known as Bridge,
Did Richard Second’s tale unfold with grace.
Jonathan Bailey in the title role,
Yes, he of Bridgerton and Wicked fame.
The Bridge, since Guys and Dolls, has much transformed,
No longer home to an immersive show.
With seats returned and stage thrust ‘tween the crowd,
The view superb where’er you choose to go.



I could not keep that up for an entire review, and I doubt you would want to read it either, but I so enjoyed the poetry of Richard II that I thought I would have a crack at it. Not sure I am quite up to Shakespeare’s standard! Needless to say, this production at the Bridge Theatre left quite an impression on me.
This was my first time seeing Richard II, and I had been warned to study the character list beforehand. That was excellent advice. My friend – and occasional 1883 writer – Franco warned me that the relationships can get confusing, and he was not wrong. Even after reading up on them beforehand, I still found myself glancing at the cast list from time to time. For once, it was helpfully placed on page two of the programme and annotated with each character’s connection to Richard. This is my first ever shoutout to a programme designer – thank you, Clare Nicholson. You really helped me keep track of who was who.


Once you get a handle on the character links, you can fully enjoy this phenomenal production. Nicholas Hytner’s take on the play was unlike any Shakespeare I had seen before. The modern dress, Bob Crowley’s minimalist set, Bruno Poet’s innovative lighting, and Grant Olding’s filmic musical scene transitions made it feel more like a modern thriller. Richard is a self-absorbed, egotistical protagonist doomed from the outset, and you cannot look away as the story unfolds.
For those unfamiliar, Richard II is the first of Shakespeare’s “Henry” plays. I know what you are thinking: “But it is about Richard.” Yes, it is, but it is also about Henry Bullingbrook, Richard’s cousin who eventually becomes Henry IV. In short, Richard banishes Henry for reasons that are never fully justified, then Henry’s father dies. Richard seizes his money for the state, Henry raises an army, and before long, Richard finds himself forced to abdicate while Henry takes the throne.



Richard’s arrogance is apparent from the very first scene. He sits behind an ornate desk, the kind that someone would choose explicitly to display their wealth and power. I do not think Bailey had his feet up, but it would not have felt out of character. He wears a perfectly tailored three-piece suit and lounges in his chair, exuding self-importance as he hears his cousin Bullingbrook (Royce Pierreson) plead his case against Thomas Mowbray (Phoenix Di Sebastiani).
One moment that captures Hytner and Bailey’s take on Richard comes just minutes after John of Gaunt’s death. Richard, utterly unbothered, lounges in the dead man’s hospital bed, casually snacking on grapes as he seizes Gaunt’s lands and wealth to fund his Irish campaign. He finds the whole thing amusing because why should he not? In his mind, he can do whatever he pleases to whomever he pleases. He is the textbook example of what happens when a child is never told no and grows up believing they are literally God’s gift to England. When he declares he will lead the war himself, it is clear he thinks his divine anointment makes him invincible.
I first saw Bailey in Company (2018), where he played a frantic groom-to-be in full-blown meltdown. He won an Olivier for that performance, and rightly so. Like many others, I really got to know and admire him as Anthony Bridgerton. Looking at these three roles, or four if we include Fiyero from Wicked, it is a masterclass in versatility. As Lord Bridgerton, he embodies self-control, gravitas, and respect. Richard is the total opposite. Yet whatever the role, Bailey commands the stage – and not just because he is easy on the eyes. I was rapt throughout. Between Hytner’s sharp cut of the play and Bailey’s sheer magnetism, there was not a dull moment. That really says something for Shakespeare, as I usually hit a lull at some point (ADHD plus long plays).
Even within this one production, we see Bailey portray multiple versions of Richard: the arrogant monarch, the fearful ruler, and the broken prisoner. The evolution of the character was mesmerising. Bailey transforms throughout the show, shifting from untouchable king to fragile man with astonishing fluidity. At the start, his Richard drips with entitlement, wielding his divine right with the kind of arrogance that makes you want to slap him. But as the walls close in, cracks form. Fear creeps in as he realises his power is slipping. In his final moments, when he is imprisoned, his delivery of “I wasted time, and now doth time waste me” is raw and heartbreaking. This journey from godlike ruler to shattered man makes Richard II such a compelling tragedy, and Bailey navigates it with remarkable nuance.
A standout performance came from Martin Carroll, who understudied John of Gaunt, as Clive Wood was unavailable. In the scene where Gaunt is dying, Carroll delivered the famous “this sceptred isle, this England…” speech with such passion that I found myself unexpectedly moved. The pain in his voice was palpable as he lamented the country he loved, now “bound in with shame.” His next scene, where he confronts Richard, was just as gripping. Gaunt has had his last years with his son stolen from him, and now this arrogant young king has come to watch him die. Carroll portrayed all that rage, heartbreak, and sorrow with incredible skill.




Royce Pierreson’s Henry provided a stark contrast to Bailey’s Richard. He was serious, precise, and utterly composed. His every move felt deliberate. Pierreson played Henry as a man who never smiled, focused entirely on restoring England’s former greatness. His performance was strong, though I felt it lacked the nuance of Bailey’s. That may, in part, be due to the nature of the character. Henry represents stability where Richard embodies chaos, and Pierreson certainly conveyed that well.
The whole supporting cast are fab, but I want to especially mention Vinnie Heaven playing the Duke of Aumerle, and Amanda Root playing his mum, who shine in their scene begging Henry to spare Aumerle’s life.
Bob Crowley’s set was minimalist but highly effective, making brilliant use of the hydraulic platforms from Guys and Dolls. Scene transitions were seamless. Simple set pieces – a desk and chair, a hospital bed, a family dinner table – rose from the floor, fully set and ready to go. This smooth technical execution, combined with Grant Olding’s score, gave the production a fluid, cinematic feel.
As if you can’t tell, I thoroughly enjoyed Richard II at The Bridge Theatre. It is fast paced and modern, despite the iambic pentameter, and Bailey’s performance is a joy to behold. Oh and I forgot to mention the love scene… yes, he practically makes love to the soil on returning to England, it’s hilarious. It’s a great play, well cut for modern audiences, and I don’t think Shakespeare gets much more accessible than this. Get yourself down to the Bridge Theatre before 10th May, and witness Richard’s fall from grace, yourself!
For more information and tickets visit www.bridgetheatre.co.uk
Words by Nick Barr
Photography Manuel Harlan