Imagine a performance so captivating, it leaves you questioning the very essence of genius and self-destruction. That's exactly what Matthew Rhys delivers in his portrayal of Richard Burton in Playing Burton. Two decades after his last British stage appearance, Rhys returns with a vengeance, embodying the legendary Welsh actor in a one-man show that’s as mesmerizing as it is thought-provoking. But here's where it gets controversial: was Burton a master of his craft or a man embarrassed by his own talent? Rhys’s performance doesn’t shy away from this complexity, offering a Burton who is both fiercely confident and deeply conflicted—a man who celebrated his gifts while questioning their purpose. And this is the part most people miss: Burton’s story isn’t just about Hollywood glamour; it’s a raw, unfiltered look at the price of fame, the weight of identity, and the struggle between inclination and fate.
Rhys, known for his stellar TV roles in The Americans and Perry Mason, steps back onto the stage with a presence that demands attention. His Burton is assured yet impulsive, casual yet commanding—a perfect embodiment of the actor’s contradictory spirit. From the moment he strides onstage, interrupting a 1984 news report of his own death, Rhys owns the character and the audience. “I will not go gentle into that good night,” Burton declares, misquoting Dylan Thomas—a bold statement that sets the tone for a performance that’s as playful as it is profound. But here’s the kicker: Rhys doesn’t just imitate Burton; he inhabits him, capturing the Welsh accent, the swagger, and the inner turmoil of a man who rose from humble beginnings to become a global icon.
This isn’t your typical one-man show. Yes, it’s a fundraiser for Michael Sheen’s Welsh National Theatre, and yes, the ticket prices are steep. But don’t let that fool you—this production deserves every penny. Rhys’s unamplified voice may lack the rumbling depth of Burton’s, but his portrayal more than makes up for it. He seamlessly transitions between Burton’s public persona and private struggles, sharing stories of his Welsh upbringing, his transformation under mentor Philip Burton, and his tumultuous relationships—most notably, his adulterous affair with Elizabeth Taylor. But what’s truly compelling is how Rhys explores Burton’s duality: the suave charmer who questions his own luck, the functioning alcoholic who berates his critics, the great raconteur who was a terrible husband. “Why do I do it? Because I’m a lucky bugger,” Burton admits, a line that encapsulates both his charm and his self-awareness.
But here’s the controversial question: Did Burton’s talent justify his flaws, or did his flaws overshadow his genius? Rhys doesn’t provide easy answers. Instead, he invites us to grapple with the complexities of a man who was both a product of his circumstances and a master of his own destiny. By the end, Playing Burton transcends the typical tribute show, becoming a kind of one-man Hamlet—a stunning exploration of identity, ambition, and the human condition. To be Richard Burton or not to be? That’s the question Rhys leaves us pondering long after the curtain falls.
★★★★★
90min
Touring to Nov 24, welshnationaltheatre.com
What do you think? Is Burton’s legacy one of triumph or tragedy? Share your thoughts in the comments below—let’s spark a conversation!
