Life is bad, but change makes things worse. And the more that violence is used to initiate change, the more the characters lose whatever humanity they once had. Expect a lot of noise and action, grime and gore in director Lucy Bailey’s fast-moving production of Julius Caesar for the Royal Shakespeare Company.
It’s been said that the play should really be called “Brutus”, but for marketing purposes Shakespeare chose the best-known Roman of all. Brutus (Sam Troughton) is undoubtedly the protagonist here, the good guy who
must decide whether he need abandon his friendship and loyalty towards Caesar (Greg Hicks) for the welfare of his state. Cautious, unsure whether he has enough cause to rebel, he is convinced to take action by a stern, manipulative Cassius (John Mackay) and the superbly evil Casca (Oliver Ryan).
Also central to the play is the crowd and the attempt to harness its support. Not that the members of it are portrayed as in any way sophisticated. At the beginning, they are drunk and licentious, later as a vengeful mob they kill an innocent man, Cinna the poet, because he has the same name as one of the conspirators. Yet it is the crowd that has to be won over – and to emphasise its importance scenes of an easily-swayed multitude are projected onto the back wall.
Brutus appeals to the crowd in order to justify his killing. However, from the moment he has stabbed Caesar, it seems he is unsure whether he has done the right thing. Did Caesar really have the autocratic tendency he was accused of? Can one rule without being strong-willed? And is what is about to replace the ex-leader going to be any better?
Mark Antony’s “Friends, Romans, countrymen” speech is excellently performed by Darrell D’Silva. Antony’s rage – at times suppressed, at times palpable, dovetails brilliantly with the faltering support every time the name of Brutus is mentioned.
Yet Antony has also been brutalised, which is evident as he holds the severed head of a dead opponent. The beginnings of further conflict between him and his ally, Octavius, are in evidence. Brutus, for his part, is now deeply immersed in violence. He is signing a death sentence, but the officer says it is only fair to issue the warrant on condition that Brutus’ sister’s son is also killed. Brutus readily agrees.
Also emphasised in this production is the workings of chance. Caesar could have heeded the soothsayer; he might not have gone out on the day of his assassination. And Brutus – what if he had told his wife Portia (Hannah Young) of his intentions? In a play with few female characters, could she have dissuaded him from the conspiracy?
Conspiracies, speeches, over-ambitious potential leaders – nonetheless, this most political of plays fails to offer much contemporary relevance. When first performed on or about 1599, with a likely tussle over the successor to Elizabeth I, it must have been one hot potato but whatever we think of David Cameron, Nick Clegg and their cohorts, we have not quite come to the stage of violent overthrow yet.
Julius Caesar can be faulted structurally in that whatever happens after Antony’s speech appears inevitable. Lucy Bailey responds by upping the ante on the action. In an acknowledged debt to the BBC/HBO series Rome, she has numerous gladiator-style fight scenes. While there is a touch of the car chase about them, enough happens to sustain interest. Given how good the production is before the interval, there is enough to ensure a well-spent night at the theatre.
