[In the following review of Richard III starring Kenneth Branagh at Sheffield's Crucible Theater, Young praises Branagh's technically flawless performance as Richard, but acknowledges that the actor failed to elicit audience sympathy.]

I was quite fired up by the prospect of seeing Kenneth Branagh at the Sheffield Crucible, let me tell you. Branagh is arguably the greatest Shakespearean actor of his generation and his return to the stage after a ten-year absence to play the lead role in Richard III is a source of huge excitement for theatre critics like me. Consequently, I eagerly made my way to St Pancras last Tuesday and caught the 3.25 p.m. to Sheffield. I was going to be present at an historic occasion!

At 10.50 p.m., after Ken had taken his final bow, I wasn't disappointed, exactly, but I wasn't in a state of post-orgasmic euphoria either. His performance as the hunchbacked king is technically faultless and it's thrilling to watch. I was reminded of Nadia Comaneci, the Romanian gymnast who scored a perfect ten at the 1976 Olympic Games. But Branagh's Richard is so pleased with himself, so completely untroubled by doubts or insecurities, it's impossible to feel any sympathy for him. In his struggle to give the character some contemporary resonance, Branagh has turned Richard into a cold-blooded yuppie murderer, a Shakespearean version of Patrick Bateman, the serial killer in Bret Easton Ellis's American Psycho. The upshot is that he never really connects with the audience.

I expressed these reservations to a fellow critic during the interval and he said, in Branagh's defence, that he was clearly modelling the character on Peter Mandelson. Watching him in the second half, I thought my colleague might well be right. Branagh has given Richard a reptilian air that is eerily reminiscent of New Labour's dark prince. When he drops his façade and talks directly to the audience, Richard is almost unbearably smug, a preening, self-satisfied clever clogs who revels in his ability to manipulate people. Branagh even manages to incorporate Mandelson's trademark sneer into Richard's repertoire of repulsive mannerisms. For an actor who's previously been identified as a New Labour luvvie, this is a courageous interpretation.

Unfortunately, while this may explain what Branagh's up to, it doesn't alter the fact that his Richard lacks the necessary humanity to draw in the audience. As a theatrical spectacle, this production of Richard III is spellbinding; as a piece of drama, it left me cold.