Review by John Lombard
As anyone who has ever sat on a committee knows, additional members will not necessarily produce better decisions.
Director James Evans’ production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar shows that this rule is also true of a cabal plotting a clandestine assassination: the dithering of this ragtag group striving for consensus about a coup is openly comic.
If Caesar’s tragic flaws are rigidity and arrogance, the flaw of the assassins is groupthink.
This grunge Rome aimed at depicting urban dystopia, but the smart casual costumes of the political leaders gave it a Western Sydney vibe. Brutus’ conspicuous rolled up sleeves did not suggest a man of action, but a man of trendy fashion decisions.
Rather than elite power-brokers deciding the fate of the world, this felt like a local council squabbling over rates.
More successful in setting the mood was the prominently displayed banner of Caesar (Kenneth Ransom), depicted in glorious Soviet realism. This hinted at the identity cult of a collapsing society, and contrasted delightfully with Ransom’s regal but eccentric performance.
If the path to the murder is bumbling and comic, the murder scene itself is powerful and effective. A ghoulish post-murder scene with the elated conspirators optimistically scrawling the word freedom in handprints of fresh blood provided a tragic-comic highlight.
This was an early performance after an unexpected cast member withdrawal, with director James Evans stepping in to adopt the central role of Brutus. Evans provided an affable and easygoing Brutus: perhaps more epicurean than stoic.
Evans particularly highlighted the fatal impact Brutus has on the conspirators, with Brutus’ charisma frequently forcing high-minded but terrible decisions on the group.
Late in the play, Cassius (Nick Simpson-Deeks) made the reasonable point that rather than marching to meet an approaching enemy army, they let the enemy exhaust itself by coming to them.
When Brutus responded with “Good reasons must, of force, give place to better” it was hard not to sigh: once more, Brutus was about to provide a tortured justification for ignoring the sensible path of action.
Nick Simpson-Deeks’ Cassius was beautifully envious and spiteful, masterful at hinting that he is increasingly uneasy with the events he has stirred into action. Sara Zwangobani was a perfect Marc Antony, uniting the character’s compassion and grief with absolute ruthlessness. Special mention also goes to the brilliant Ghenoa Gela, who gave a delightful comic performance as the wide-eyed and dopy conspirator Casca.
This production pairs with Bell Shakespeare’s Antony and Cleopatra earlier this year, not connected in style or actors but linked by the historical figures. The clear bridge to Antony and Cleopatra is the boyish monster Octavius (a delightful Emily Havea) seizing the pulpit at the end of the play.
Octavius's opportunism unites the productions with a message that in politics the victor will always be the one least human and most ruthless.
Julius Caesar finds the comedy in this tragedy, detuning a play of power-broking to humanise leaders struggling not only against the collapse of society, but against their own limitations.
