Caesar
I don’t want to ruin this RSC production of Julius Caesar for you, but Caesar doesn’t die in the end! Rather he is assassinated, as the script demands, at the beginning of Act III, before the audience has even had its half time ice-cream. Indeed, Caesar only appears in three scenes which is a pity as Greg Hicks’ powerfully velvet baritone and insistent oratory make him a captivating statesman even as his nervous hand-wringing belies the traumas and fear that run through him. Thus Caesar is not the central character of Shakespeare’s play he is merely one of the players in what is an undulating tide of power struggle. As if to make the point, director Lucy Bailey opens the play with a scene not originally conceived by The Bard in which Romulus and Remus fight a bloody battle to the death over where to found Rome. As well as setting the gory tone of the production, this extra scene shows the audience that Rome was founded on violence, setting in motion the cycle of bitter rivalry and brutality that would plague Rome until Octavius was crowned emperor Augustus. Miss Bailey shows us then that the death of Caesar is no more than an oscillation in the waves of dominance. Certain as he was doomed to die, was Pompey before him and the conspirators afterwards.
The staging is sparse and dark. Forget the image of Rome as a great civilization of sparkling white marbled grandiosity and intelligent exchange; this is a world where fear, portents and bloodshed rule. The people of Rome, portrayed using members of the cast and video screens, are base, seemingly infirm of body and mind, wailing incoherently into the night. Wonderful music by composer Django Bates (played by a live brass ensemble) is as fanfares atonally juxtaposed to replicate the tension of the city streets.
Against this murky and electrifying backdrop a plot is hatched and executed that will ultimately taunt the conspirators until their final hour which we witness in all its gruesome detail. John Mackay who plays Cassius physically dominates Brutus (Sam Troughton) which makes his attempts to flatter Brutus into conspiracy and murder all the more toe curling. Mackay seems to take a while to warm up but the flames of ambition are visible in his eyes even as he sweet-talks Brutus in the first Act.
It is Brutus’ transformation that steals the show however. Sam Troughton takes us on a journey through the psyche of a man desperate to hide his dark inner life behind a veneer of stoicism, nobility and honour. His deliberate and taut posture reflects brilliantly his beliefs as to proper outward presentation of character. Yet Brutus, despite claims to the contrary, suffers from the same fault as Caesar – he is susceptible to flattery. Once he is flattered to murder Troughton plays him as a coward, unable to come terms with what is to be done. He breaks down in hysterical tears in front of Portia, his wife (Hannah Young) who sees his trouble even if she cannot name it. At the moment of assassination he hangs back like a scared child, but then frantically joins in the violence, and the taste of blood transforms him. The character emerges the other side, louder, brasher, more confident and dominant as he tries to emulate the man he has just killed, and domineer over his new enemies. Yet the ghost of Caesar hangs over him and we never lose the sense that this is a deeply troubled man.
There are commendable performances also from Oliver Ryan as Casca whose naked coarseness is palpable. Darrell D’Silva plays a complex and ambiguous Mark Antony who cleverly disguises his real motives and desires. Antony’s “friends, Romans, countrymen” eulogy of Caesar is masterfully delivered, bringing out the singing meter of the poetry laid thick with irony and contempt.
Lucy Bailey has created turbulent realization of Caesar’s Rome as a place of continual strife and battle. I was not wholly sold on the constant deployment of video images of burning temples as a backdrop to the action, and the interaction between the video and characters was not entirely convincing. Audibility was an issue with less experienced members of the cast as the Roundhouse setting involves sitting around three sides of a square stage meaning that backs are turned toward sections of the audience at times. Nevertheless this is a dark, visceral and thrilling production of Julius Caesar that cleverly places the central character as the history of Rome rather than the title character.
4 Stars
At London’s Roundhouse until 05.02.11
needs more pics