“Julius Caesar” by William Shakespeare

at the Royal Shakespeare Theatre, Friday 1st June 2012

*The performance reviewed was a preview*

Doran’s ‘all black’ production (an odd description, in my opinion: you wouldn’t necessarily describe a cast as ‘all white’) of Julius Caesar, cut down to two hours and fifteen minutes, feels like a modern political thriller, though it lacks any real drama and could do with having more pace. Seeing as Caesar is murdered halfway through the text, this cannot be blamed much on Doran, though the second half of the production feels slow by comparison and fails to really say much about the nature of dictatorships.

We enter the theatre to jovial music and a lively, crowded stage, and as the lights go down it’s clear that Caesar is loved by all. He had led his people to a victory and created a happier lifestyle. What’s odd, though, is that this feels like the jubilation which follows a revolution, and though images of tyranny (a large statue, pictures of Caesar) are present, this is far too happy a state and doesn’t bear the marks of repression at all. This means the plot of Brutus and Cassius to overthrow the ‘tyrant’ comes out of nowhere and is difficult to understand.

And while this production manages to ask questions about the nature of military coups and the shifting nature of politics internationally, the attempt to mix it with images of the Arab Spring falls short. This play is about the politician, not the ordinary man, which is utterly incongruous with the clips of popular uprisings we have seen over the past eighteen months.

That said, the central cast play the manipulative and charismatic politicians of the play with impressive honesty. Jeffery Kissoon’s ageing Caesar bears resemblance to many past-it dictators, and puts on a kind face for the masses. The problem is, we never really see him lose his rag and his wrongdoings aren’t evident, meaning Cyril Nri’s bewildered Cassius has a harder job to convince us that he deserves to die. Ray Fearon’s Mark Antony is powerful though gentle, and is the closest we get to hearing the people speak; his speech to the populace is fantastic, though by the end of the play it’s easy to see that he could just as easily follow in the conspirators’ footsteps by creating another dictatorial regime. Paterson Joseph is here on top form as Brutus, overly ambitious and willing to die for what he believes, even though that opinion is tough to endorse. They are supported by a fine cast who inject energy into the play (though the accents are sometimes a little, shall we say, scattered).

There are clear military references in Michael Vale’s set, which looks like the steps of the Pergamon built out of Soviet breeze blocks, though it feels a little static for a play which sees such broad shifts in location, tone and government. A bizarre moment sees a section of the copper back wall rise up for no apparent reason, and scene changes could be smoother. It’s also lit to excess by Vince Herbert, though Akintayo Ekinbode’s African music is interwoven well and changes with the state, as it moves from happy union to a land of turmoil.

Doran’s production is solid and strong, and I welcome the cutting of an interval in order to create a more thrilling atmosphere, but it’s difficult to shy away from the fact that, no matter how hard we try to philosophise in the UK, it’s tough to really know the effect and questions surrounding the Arab Spring. There are also holes in the plot and drama which means this Caesar doesn’t feel that tragic, plodding along with an unclear trajectory.

I also wonder about the verisimilitude of the term “World Shakespeare Festival”, particularly the Royal Shakespeare Company’s take on the idea. Though Boyd et al have invited companies from Iraq and Brazil to perform in their theatres, the majority of productions have been created by British directors – Roxana Silbert and David Farr co-ordinate the ‘Nations at War’ and ‘Shipwreck Trilogy’ respectively. This production of Julius Caesar now adds to that list, and though British directors setting plays abroad is by no means a Bad Thing (after all, Shakespeare did it), it feels remarkably like the RSC is giving us a peculiarly British version of the world. Naturally, collaboration between nations should be encouraged, but it feels slightly disingenuous to use the adjective “World” to mean “British-directors-setting-plays-somewhere-that-isn’t-Britain-with-a-few-actors-from-around-the-world”. It would be far better to have foreign directors tackling these plays with the RSC’s resources to give an entirely different perspective in order that we may learn from one another.

Overall, this once again feels like a missed opportunity to have a genuinely global discussion; perhaps in a different context Julius Caesar would be more impressive, but under the banner of the ‘World Shakespeare Festival’ it falls at the first hurdle.

Pinterest board here: http://pinterest.com/danhutton/julius-caesar-by-william-shakespeare/

“13″ by Mike Bartlett

at the Olivier Theatre, Thursday 29th December 2011

“The more you know, the harder you will find it to make up your mind” goes Tim Minchin’s “anthem to ambivalence” The Fence. In an increasingly divided world, which sees everything as black or white, the grey area in between is sometimes the most interesting and the most fulfilling. Mike Bartlett’s extraordinary and multitudinous new play 13 fights this case whilst at the same time rallying behind the idea of belief, imploring us to fight for a cause and resist the forces of blandness society struggles so hard to impose upon us. Thea Sharrock’s production is a smorgasbord of spectacle and yet a marvel of simplicity.

We are in central London, among many intertwining storylines and characters. The two central voices come from a female Conservative Prime Minister (Geraldine James) and a messiah-type figure in John (Trystan Gravelle), the former of whom defends her ‘considered’ approach to politics while the other rises up through a mini-internet revolution to become the voice of the people, fighting for freedom of speech and idealism. Around this central story there are dozens of other tales of love, loss, parenthood and faith which all share the theme of belief and ignorance.

It is not hard to see that this is the same mind that came up with Earthquakes in London, but there have been some improvements made. Where Earthquakes felt a little too messy, even though the stories tried hard to be entwined, 13 goes all out on the haphazardness, not holding back anything and revelling in a confusion of voices. There are no ‘unreal’ aspects to this play either as there were in the former; this is merely a ‘hyper-real’ representation of our own reality, drawing out the most deplorable and exciting aspects of the new way of the world. Yes, it is sometimes a little unbelievable, but is entirely this idealism which Bartlett is trying to capture; in order to achieve a better future, we must make the impossible possible.

Although Bartlett seems to lay out the cause for idealism and belief, arguing this is better than thinking nothing at all, the final thirty minutes turn this on its head, showing that no one is entirely morally clean and we are all hypocrites – we must therefore be cautious when creating role models, rather embracing the faults of a whole group and using them to our advantage. Everyone is corrupt to an extent – governments, Julian Assange, Ghandi, and not one of us nor any political system is perfect.

Thea Sharrock’s staging is fast-paced and dynamic, mirroring Bartlett’s breakneck play. She draws out the human aspects of these stories whilst making clear political and cultural comments. Tom Scutt’s huge cuboid set becomes a space for socialising, fighting and playing, and gives hints towards those ‘black boxes’ we hear about, holding information about all of us. Adrian Johnston and Mark Henderson’s music and lighting add to the epic qualities of the production and are just as confused and layered as the play itself.

Some strong performances bring the text to life, and each remains solidly human; Adam James is well placed in his comfort zone as a misogynistic solicitor, while Kirsty Bushell and Davood Ghadami display touching qualities as an archetypal couple. Danny Webb is both disturbing and fascinating as the atheist confidante to Geraldine James’ privately passionate but publicly cold Prime Minister. Gravelle’s performance as John, however, steals the show, remaining ever elusive due to his calmness but remaining ingenious, brave and  inspiring. He is the leader we all long for.

To those who criticise Bartlett’s play for being too messy, I say this: you’re going to have to learn to live with it. As our world becomes ever more confusing and the number of heard voices increases, this style of multi-layered, collaborative and somewhat confused play is only going to become more popular. The well-made and carefully crafted play doesn’t mirror our difficult and postmodern world, and as we have to deal with excess in everyday life, theatre must respond to it. 13 is ingenious in its variety, tackling huge, almost incomprehensible questions, but in doing so it asks each and every one of us to interrogate our own beliefs and values and opens up a discourse which must and will take place.