ACT I has mixed results with James Goldman's royal family bickerfest The Lion in Winter

ACT I steps back into time with its latest production, James Goldman's 1966 royalty drama The Lion in Winter, which reduces the high-level family politics of 12th century England to so much peevishness and the clucking of bitter chickens. Originally produced on Broadway in 1966 with a notable cast that included a very young Christopher Walken (!) as France's King Philip, and later a 1968 film with Peter O'Toole and Katharine Hepburn, Goldman's take on sarcastic, backbiting kings, princes and queens proves that lineage disputes can be entertaining—for a while anyway.

It's Christmas 1183 at the French palace of King Henry II, and for a little perspective, the events that are portrayed—specifically fictional but based on real persons—predate by almost 100 years the military activities of Scotland's Sir William Wallace (aka Braveheart).

Henry (Brian T. Hill) is 50, still hale and hearty, but the question of how his kingdom will eventually be dispersed among his sons gives rise to endless squabbling. Henry's wife, Eleanor of Aquitaine (Maggi Bowden), has recently been released from prison, which appears to leave her stoically nonplussed but more than ready to engage in the psychological family games that will determine the fate of an empire.

Exemplifying the mood, and also the scathing humor Goldman injects into this ripely bitchy scenario, are the various instances of name-calling, as youngest son John (Nathan Diller) is dubbed a "walking pustule," and the lovely Alais (Rebekah Lyons)—consort to the king who may soon become a political bartering chip as eldest son Richard's future wife—earns the tag "family whore." Throw in some homosexual overtones (Richard and Philip apparently have a history), plus the amoral behind-the-scenes machinations of middle son Geoffrey (Eric Ventress), and you get a regal soap opera whose power to move requires supple individual performances (which happen only occasionally) and a confrontational staging style (which never fully materializes).

Director Melissa Williams' long, eventful and very contentious Act 1 rides bearably enough on the strength of Goldman's vinegar-laced dialogue. Act 2 gives us more of the same family feuding but also static passages that threaten to turn the royals' richly imagined thoughts and feelings into a snorefest, despite the insights we gain into the complexity of Henry and Eleanor's relationship. Pete Hiett's set effectively evokes the barbarous times of the medieval era, and Natalie Stone's period costumes lend an equally authentic feel. But given the often laissez-faire direction and the inconsistencies of the players, the production never really roars—though Aaron Shaver, as the combative Richard (eventually known as Lionheart), offers a standout performance.