Jonathan Bailey’s Bratty, Bad-Boy ‘Richard II’ at the Bridge Theater

The Bridge Theater is within walking distance of the Tower of London, where in 1399 King Richard II was imprisoned and forced to abdicate England’s throne in favor of his cousin, who became Henry IV. Where better to stage a new production of William Shakespeare’s play about Richard’s downfall? From the playhouse foyer, theatergoers can look out at the tower across the River Thames, and the distance of those 600 years shrinks to nothing.

In this modern-dress take on “Richard II” directed by Nicholas Hytner and running through May 10, the hapless king is played by the English actor Jonathan Bailey, who is on a hot streak following recent high-profile screen roles — as Fiyero in “Wicked” and Anthony Bridgerton in “Bridgerton” — and is now taking on his biggest stage role to date.

Bailey gives an engrossing performance as Richard, whose corrupt misrule fuels popular support for the usurper cousin, Henry Bolingbroke (Royce Pierreson), despite the medieval doctrine that the monarch is anointed by God and therefore untouchable. After making a series of strategic blunders, Richard is decisively outmaneuvered by Bolingbroke’s rebel army and meets a swift, brutal demise.

Historical accounts remarked upon Richard’s effeminacy and in Bailey’s adroit rendering he is a capricious, flouncing sociopath whose every utterance is suffused with performative irony. He declares with mock solemnity that he has no choice but to raise taxes — and then gleefully helps himself to a line of cocaine. Moments after his uncle’s death, he hops onto the recently vacated hospital bed and blithely scoffs down grapes. When Richard finally agrees to hand over power, he proffers the crown and then retracts it — twice — like a petulant child refusing to part with a toy. All this badness is great fun to watch.

In contrast, Pierreson’s Bolingbroke has the abstracted air of a man impelled by forces greater than himself. With his hulking frame, balled-up fists and blunt vocal delivery, he is a striking counterpoint to the dissipatedly charming Richard. (After one of the king’s more florid speeches, a bewildered Bolingbroke impatiently asks one of his cronies to translate: “What says his majesty?”) Michael Simkins is the pick of the supporting cast as the Duke of York, who tries in vain to straddle the warring factions. His finger-wagging exasperation, verging at times on slapstick, gives an audience-friendly commentary on the unfolding intrigue.