Theatre Review: Julius Caesar

A Mermaids Production

26/3/23 Younger Hall, St Andrews

Directed by: Molly Luckhurst

Produced by: George Cooper

Written by: William Shakespeare

Review by Noor Zohdy


 Set in the world of 70s diplomacy, Julius Caesar brought to stunning life the fraught, uncertain tension of 44 BC Rome. With every wall marked with a trademark red and blue presidential poster reading ‘CAESAR FOR KING’, Julius Caesar (Freddie Lawson) made his first appearance. With a deft, off-hand sense of leadership, he paraded down the centre of the hall walking to the stage followed by quick-stepped followers speaking in officiously hurried voices, everyone in suits, ties, and blazers. Caesar’s easy opening manner gave the stage a sense of confidentiality. His impassioned speech in which he is torn between going to the Capitol or staying home conveyed a man so nearly on the brink of destruction even to himself, ‘we are two lions’ became a desperately determined shout against all portents that bode dangerously for him.

The dynamic of Brutus (Marcus Judd) and Cassius (Natalie Westgor) was captivating from the start. It was epitomised in their first conversation, in which Cassius tried to enlist Brutus among the conspirators, the tension between desperation and belief was brilliantly carried. Brutus’ most triumphant passions were succeeded by fretful, tired laughter; his boldest strides were followed by a stumble backwards. Cassius was, from the start, his close companion, yet the sense of independent resolution and bold daring never left his character. Cassius’ impassioned words were unforgettably bold, and in his speeches and proclamations, he almost seemed to defy his own voice.

One of my favourite scenes of the play was an argument between Cassius and Brutus in Brutus’ tent. Every word brought to the fore the conflict of hopelessness and defiance. This was also felt in the keen nearness of Brutus’ relationship with his wife, Portia (Lauryn Perkins-Monney). The closeness the two conveyed was among the play’s most heartrending tensions as Portia implored Brutus to tell her what troubled him.

The subtleties of Brutus’ relationship with Caesar were equally powerful. When Brutus saw Caesar as a ghost, at once bravely gesturing towards him and faltering before the spectre with a shaking hand, Caesar merely tilted his head, and there, for a moment, it seemed he would say another word, but then retreats. The death scene of Caesar was at once built by the mounting tension of the scene and the sudden abrupt shock of the moment itself. In a startling instant, Brutus held Caesar trembling as he breathlessly managed the famous words, ‘Et tu, Brut!’ On his knees after the death, Brutus’ immediate look of pale shock precariously found bold certainty. Mark Antony’s (Ben Connaughton) shocked words of lament seemed to chill Brutus, but once Brutus began speaking again, he seemed certain of himself once more, reassured by the power of his own voice. It was with held breath and an at once desperate and certainly held conviction that he delivered his answer to the countrymen of Rome: ‘not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more’; it was in the same tone that he said to his companions, ‘the ghost of Caesar hath appeared to me’, too, as he said with weak, half-faltering extended arms, ‘So fare you well at once; for Brutus’ tongue / Hath almost ended his life’s history’. The same precarious smile, the same self-doubting happiness was also in an earlier scene, where, just after his violent argument with Cassius, he said ‘I will not hold thee long: if I do live’, half to himself, half to Lucius (Hannah Savage). His final words, however, stilled the scene with perhaps his most stunning moment of certainty, with chilling silence, delivering the lines, with haunting calmness, ‘Caesar, now be still: / I kill'd not thee with half so good a will’ before falling by a sudden gunshot to the ground.

Marcus Antony truly came to be upon the death of Caesar. His, ‘O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth’ soliloquy was among his most powerful moments. The daring shouts of his determination to avenge Caesar’s death were as momentous as the death itself. Without losing a moment of determination, his avowal made the tone of the play suddenly not only threatening but sinister; he seemed to be maddened by his own furious shout. His rousing speech that turned the countrymen against Brutus was powerfully conveyed and the presence of the ensemble (Ellie McKay, Lexie Dykes, Emma Croft-Smith, Fiona Lock, and Hannah Savage) conveyed the power of the will of a restlessly determined population.

Octavius (Amelia Stokeld) always spoke with a firm sense of formidable gravity and his final words to Cassius, ‘let's away, / To part the glories of this happy day’ seemed to end the play with an echo of his future Augustan leadership. Casca (Laura Bennie) was memorable with a commanding and distinct presence. Calpurnia (Piper Richardson), Caesar’s wife was a touching and powerful speaker as she tried to convince her husband to not go to the Capitol that fateful day. In one of the play’s most striking moments, after Caesar’s death, she came and sat on the far end of the stage looking at his fallen figure, smoking a cigarette silently.

This production of Julius Caesar was truly unforgettable. The spirit of the tragedy was felt with all the power and immediacy of an event not mythologised in the ages of history but occurring here and now. Remarkably portraying human frailty and the threats of great power, this production conveyed strength and triumph in the same breath as weakness and downfall, recalling Caesar’s powerfully delivered words, ‘the valiant never taste of death but once’.