William Shakespeare is a master at showing how easily a crowd can be manipulated, how easily a mob can be led and misled. He does it in The Second Part Of King Henry The Sixth, and he does it in Coriolanus, among other plays. Probably the most memorable and striking instance of this in his work occurs in Julius Caesar, when first Brutus and then Marc Antony take the same group of people in two completely opposing directions, and apparently without the people realizing it. Julius Caesar is about specific people in a specific time, but what the play has to say could not be more relevant to our time (and probably, sadly, to all times). And in the Independent Shakespeare Company’s current production of Julius Caesar, directed by David Melville, the audience itself becomes the mob, making the point even more clear. The audience is directed what to say using two television screens above the stage, itself rather telling. Sure, it’s a practical and easy way to inform the audience of its lines, but it seems the company is also remarking on how television or computer screens influence what people are likely to shout out in public spaces, how screens themselves manipulate crowds.
This summer marks the Independent Shakespeare Company’s twentieth year of providing free Shakespeare performances to the folks of Los Angeles, and its fourteenth at Griffith Park (before that, the company performed at Barnsdall Park). The last two years, the company put on its summer productions in a spot farther up the hill in Griffith Park, while ground was broken for what will be a permanent theatre in its regular spot. And while that construction is not yet complete, this summer the company is back at its normal spot at the old zoo (much closer to the bathrooms, which is helpful during intermission). And the company kicks off its twentieth season of Shakespeare in the park with its first ever outdoor production of Julius Caesar. Before the performance begins, Cinna the Poet (Kelvin Morales) explains the vocal participation required of the audience, and soon the crowd is cheering “Caesar!” And Julius Caesar (David Melville) enters through the large double doors upstage center. Before long, he is within the crowd, shaking hands, essentially wooing the crowd, and of course doing so with a certain amount of humor, such as David Melville is known for. And since the audience has become in fact part of the performance, it makes more sense than ever for other characters to enter through the crowd, as does the Soothsayer (Daniel De Young) to give his famous warning to Caesar.
It isn’t just the crowd that is manipulated in this play, but individual characters are influenced and played upon by other characters. Sabra Williams does a tremendous job as Cassius, particularly when trying to influence Brutus (William Elsman) to turn against Caesar. And when Brutus says that he fears the people choose Caesar for their king, Cassius’ “Ay, do you fear it?” is spoken pointedly, which is great. And when Cassius imitates Julius Caesar, saying “Help me, Cassius, or I sink,” Sabra Williams make Caesar sound like a weak child, which is perfect, especially to make the contrast even greater with the line about Caesar now becoming a god. Sabra Williams was excellent as Tamora in the company’s 2018 production of Titus Andronicus, and she again gives one of the night’s best performances as Cassius. And William Elsman does a great job as Brutus, his changing thoughts clear in his expressions as Cassius works to convince him that Caesar has grown too big. Julius Caesar then leads the others in through the audience. Caesar’s “He thinks too much: such men are dangerous” is one of many lines in this production that stand out for their relevance to our current political climate in the United States. Does that not seem like something a Republican might say? Caesar and the others move upstage, facing away from the audience, while Cassius, Brutus and Casca (Richard Azurdia) speak downstage. Like David Melville, Richard Azurdia has an undeniable knack for comedy, and so he finds the humor in the character of Casca and in the situation. Particularly funny are his expressions as he looks around to make sure he is not being overheard when talking about Caesar refusing the crown. Sometimes he even directs his gaze at specific audience members as if they are paying a little too much attention to him. Another line that stands out because of its unnerving bearing on one twisted group in the U.S. is Casca’s “if Caesar had stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less.” Trump supporters in recent interviews have made clear that their support for their leader is unwavering no matter what crimes he commits.
William Elsman is particularly good in the scene where Brutus is working out his own thoughts regarding Caesar’s fate, receiving some aid from his tired servant Lucius (Jordan Anderson). When the other conspirators enter, they are hooded. As Cassius introduces them, each pulls back his hood, and Casca especially enjoys revealing his identity, again finding humor in the situation. There is an additional bit of silliness when Brutus and Cassius step aside to speak and Cinna the Senator (Daniel De Young) pulls out a bag of potato chips to munch on while he waits. It gets a big laugh, of course, but what it also does is connect the past with the present. Interestingly, it is on the phrase “That welcome wrongs” that Brutus removes a dagger from the bag of weapons that was brought in. Could it be a subconscious comment on his very action? Each of the others then likewise takes a dagger. It is also interesting that Portia (Jacqueline Misaye) enters upstage during the conspirators’ conversation, unseen but listening, something not indicated in the text. She then ducks out again before Cassius says “disperse yourselves.” She does then make her regular entrance, and her having heard some of the conversation adds a different tone to what she says here, such as her line “Make me acquainted with your cause of grief,” since she in fact already has some idea. Portia changes tactics, taking on an anger when her sweeter disposition does not have the effect she desired. It is then that she finds the dagger in her husband’s belt, and threatens to use it on herself on “Giving myself a voluntary wound.” It is clear that she is as strong a person as Brutus, a good match. And there is a really wonderful and surprising moment when Portia is alone, walking slowly upstage after Brutus has left.
When Calpurnia (Carene Rose Mekertichyan) begins to tell Caesar of the odd things that have happened, Caesar shakes it off, not taking it seriously. At least not at first. That gives us the sense that his wife is prone to unnecessary worry. But when he hears that the augurs could not find a heart within a beast, he becomes alarmed. It is interesting that both Portia and Calpurnia at some point kneel to make their points. Calpurnia’s kneeling works on Caesar. I mentioned earlier how there is a lot of manipulation within this text, and in this scene Decius (Kelvin Morales) manipulates Caesar himself with his own favorable interpretation of Calpurnia’s dream. When questioned directly earlier, Caesar responded by putting on a show of strength. But phrasing it in a way that is complimentary, as Decius does here, leads to him being easily persuaded. That reminds me again of a certain man who recently occupied the White House. One could have gotten him to do absolutely anything if the request was colored with compliments and praise. David Melville’s delivery of “How foolish do your fears seem now” is delightful.
The audience chants “Caesar,” as directed by the television screens, and Caesar enters with Marc Antony (Hiwa Chow Elms), who is wearing dark sunglasses like a bodyguard or secret service agent. Trebonius (Patrick Batiste) soon leads Antony away, so that the others may fulfill their pact. The assassination of Caesar is handled incredibly well in this production. After Casca stabs him, Julius Caesar picks up the same dagger to attack him, and it is only then that the others spring into action, adding their cuts. Cassius actually pushes Brutus toward Caesar, and in that moment of hesitation on Brutus’ part Caesar delivers his famous lines. But when Brutus does act, it is with strength and determination, and Caesar’s death is wonderfully bloody and not at all rushed. What is also fantastic is that brief moment when they are somewhat stunned that they’ve actually done the deed, the spell broken only when Cinna the Senator then speaks. It is an incredible moment. Antony then enters through the audience, and takes measure of what has happened before speaking. Cassius advances as if to kill Antony, the others quickly following, until Brutus stops them. When Brutus says “The multitude, beside themselves with fear,” it is those in the audience he is referring to, and he steps downstage to deliver that line. It is interesting how Brutus has become the leader of the group, much to the dismay of Cassius.
The Plebeians’ line “We will be satisfied” is shouted out by the audience. And it is this scene where the crowd really plays its biggest part, first chanting the name “Brutus” and then demanding of Antony, “Read the will!” Hiwa Chow Elms is fantastic in this scene. This is when the crowd is most manipulated, but what those in the audience quickly learn, and can’t help but see, is that it’s fun. It’s fun to take part. Of course, here in a theatre setting, it is harmless. But those in the audience must go away from the theatre with a sense of how certain mobs can be drawn into the excitement and fun of those moments, the energy of those around them feeding their own desires. And that leads in the play to the death of Cinna the Poet, a person uninvolved with the conspiracy, but having the misfortune of sharing a name with one of those involved. What is interesting – and frightening – about this is that the mob acknowledges that he’s not the Cinna they are after but kill him anyway, so caught up are they in the bloodthirsty frenzy. One of them says to kill him for his bad verses, and the audience, as instructed, shouts “Kill him.” Because, really, in the end, it’s about the excitement, and not about any ideology or sense of right and wrong. I wonder how many people in mobs are aware of that. Probably none.
The scene with the rift between Cassius and Brutus is excellent, featuring powerful performances from both actors. And then as they make their plans to meet at Philippi, a sense of doom hangs over them, and they know it. When the Ghost of Caesar enters, it is through the audience, never actually stepping onto the stage, which works quite well. The battle is brief, performed in slow motion in red light and fog, while a warlike, ominous pulse sounds. In this production, Brutus does not ask anyone to help him to his end, but stabs himself. Much near the end of the play is cut, including Octavius’ final lines, so in this production it is Antony who speaks the last words. The end does feel a bit rushed, but this is nonetheless an outstanding production.
This production of Julius Caesar plays every Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday through July 30, 2023, with a 7 p.m. start time. In the past, this company has performed two plays in repertory, but this season the next play (A Midsummer Night’s Dream) will not begin until this one concludes. There is one intermission, which comes at the end of Act III scene i. There was a humorous moment last night during the intermission when on the television screens appeared the words, “Take your seats,” and some children near the front shouted out, “Take your seats,” just as they’d been directed to.
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