Guy van Egmond
In their first Wellington show, Shakespeare’s North takes a stab at The Tragedy of Julius Caesar. Not a show I was all too familiar with, but the promise of intrigue, sabotage and bloodshed, as well as mysterious interactive seats, had me excited as I took the lift up to two/fiftyseven on Willis Street.
From the get-go, it was clear the team had done their homework; they gave their best to bring Shakespeare’s work to life. But Julius Caesar is a big piece to pull off, one that calls for grandeur and scale. Attempts to bring the play forward for a modern Wellington audience lacked a defined intention, which, as well as a number of production stumbling-blocks, resulted in an overall lacklustre show; one that missed the sharpness and bitter tragedy I was hoping for.
Being the titular character, Caesar himself really doesn’t feature all that much. The play centres largely on Brutus, a senator and general who, fearing Caesar’s rise to dictatorship, joins Cassius in a plot to murder the laurelled despot. The build-up to Caesar’s death—full of moral misgivings and late-night scheming—makes up the play’s first half, but it doesn’t stop once Caesar then falls. Post-mortem, Brutus finds himself duelling in rhetoric against Mark Antony, a loyal advisor of Caesar who spurs the populace against the conspirators. Brutus and Cassius flee Rome, and the play’s second half takes place on the battlefield of Phillipi, where the armies of Brutus, Cassius, and their allies face off against those of Mark Antony and Caesar’s son Octavius. Caesar’s death haunts these scenes in more than one sense and the play concludes in true Shakespeare style with almost everyone deceased.
It is largely a play about the interplay of politics and power, about rhetoric and swaying the hearts and minds of the ‘populus’. Director Eli Hancock gets this: there’s some great attention to detail that lets this oratory shine. The theatre, for example, was set up so that the audience lined all four walls around a central stage: theatre-in-the-round. This is how the Roman Senate was designed and how plays would be performed in the Forum. It’s also similar to how Shakespeare’s work would be performed in marketplaces or at The Globe. Theatre-in-the-round is how it should be done; full marks.
Half of the seats, including my own, had little cards welcoming the ‘Friends of Brutus’. They promised an interactive experience, which began as people drifted in and a number of the ensemble cast stumbled drunkenly out of the wings to chat up the growing audience. It was a fun way to set up the play’s opening during the Festival of Lupercal, while also dropping some character names, alluding to Caesar’s casting of the die, and all together warming the audience up for the genre and interactivity of the show.
What this opening also alluded to, however, was a lack of tonal commitment. The play could never decide whether it wanted to be a strong, classic Shakespeare production, or a light and silly subversion of a tragedy. At times I was sold on the grand monologues from Brutus or drawn in by Mark Antony’s sly call-to-arms (more on that in a bit), but all too often an awkward chuckle would ripple through the audience as minor characters made cheap aside jokes. The ‘interactivity’ shtick was also largely a wasted opportunity. There were clever moments like using us as a chorus to mock Caesar or when characters like the Soothsayer used the general audience as a crowd to hide in; but mostly the ‘interactivity’ was little more than being a stand-in to hold a lamp or fill out a scene. It more often felt like being in the way, than being a part of the play.
This came to a head when the curtains were pulled and the stage doubled in size. It meant all of us ‘Friends’ sitting against the curtain had to move: I had to scrabble for my bag and coat, the couple sitting to my right was split up, and other people ended up on the grandstands instead of their seats. It took too long for this chaos to settle, taking attention away from the pivotal scene that followed. It also meant that many of the ensemble actors had to break and become stagehands, restricting their ability to become their own compelling characters. Nevertheless, many of the supporting actors kept their multiple characters defined and interesting, most notably Nathan King as the creeping Soothsayer and loyal Titinius; Tiarnán Clarke, who played a brilliant gossiping Casca; and Olivia Calder as Calpurnia, whose emotionality stood up against the volume and force of Caesar himself.
The show’s core cast also absolutely shone, as expected. Jacob Tū-Pene Waugh carried Brutus with a vulnerable strength, convincing through force of character that balanced with moments of doubt and gentleness. His scene with Klara Talantseva’s Portia had surprising care and chemistry, and she went on to carry her own monologues with determination. There were great speeches made by many, including Ralph Johnson’s Cassius who, though he stumbled sometimes, I dare say put me in mind of Michael Hurst with his vim and selfless vigour; he brought every scene of his to a new height. Connor Norris cut an imposing figure from the get-go as Caesar himself, imbuing him with an (over-)confidence that made him not quite likeable, but admirable. And lastly, though Alex Quinn’s Mark Antony took some time to warm up, he became one of the most captivating speakers, with the presence and pathos to calmly whip a crowd into vengeful frenzy.
The cast as a whole was a great collection of talent that worked well together. There was a strong sense of community between the actors, a testament to the company itself. With a stronger focus on what kind of show they were putting on, it could have gone really well.
I’d like to make a final note on two/fiftyseven, where the show took place. Is it designed for a theatre production like Julius Caesar? No. The non-adjustable lighting ruined any sense of mood and the air-con unit above the stage drowned out most of Connor Hurnard’s live foley work. But the fact that it exists is fantastic. Fantastic that there is a flexible creative space in the heart of the city, open for productions like this that mean anyone and their dog can come and see Shakespeare being performed on a weekday night!
This show by Shakespeare’s North is cause for joy as well. It wasn’t the tightest production and it missed the mark at times, but the team’s dedication to Shakespeare and the energy they brought to the show makes me think they’ll only grow from here. I do wonder whether they’ll explore different adaptations of Shakespeare’s work, or double-down on traditional performance. Either way, I’ll be keeping an eye on their future productions, but you can still catch the last performances of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar; tickets available through Eventfinda.