“Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive/That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers?/Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey/But me and mine…” (Titus, Act III.1)
These are some of my favorite lines from one of my favorite Shakespeare plays, Titus Andronicus. The play holds a special place in my heart, and I can easily say it is one of those texts that have changed the way I view literature. I’m sure many Shakespeare scholars would shake their heads in disapproval at this admission, but it’s true. In my second year of college, I took a Shakespeare’s Tragedies class. This play was the first one we read. I had little experience with Shakespeare before this point, and did not care much for his works. But after reading this play (multiple times) for class, watching and greatly enjoying Julie Taymor’s film adaptation, Titus, and directing and acting in a few scenes of the play myself, I came to see Shakespeare in a whole new manner. Perhaps it was age, perhaps experience, but Shakespeare began to make sense, and not only that, but his works became enjoyable. I won’t drone on about this too much more, but perhaps for those who consider Shakespeare boring or stuffy, they should consider picking up Titus Andronicus.
My Shakespeare’s Tragedies professor once said, “Titus Andronicus was Shakespeare’s Tarantino phase.” This could not be truer. Rape. Murder. Dismemberment. Cannibalism. Madness. Revenge. All of these play major roles in the very short Shakespeare text. If there’s one way to get a college class’s attention, it’s through this play. No one could read this and say Shakespeare was all powdered wigs and star-crossed lovers.
So. Anyway. The point of this blog is to mention that I finally got to see Titus Andronicus performed onstage. I went to the Carte Blanch Studios Theatre yesterday with my friend, Hugh, to see a performance. I’ve always wanted to see the play performed (as it was meant to be) and I could not pass up the opportunity, regardless of how obscure the theatre was. Truthfully, the locale was very art house-ish. Small, stuck on a random back street, mostly made up of a big artsy café and a tiny tiny theatre. Hooligans smoking outside. Theatre seats were old red velvet. But it seemed just the right place to see one of my favorite tragedies.
Let’s move on to the play itself. Technically-wise, they did an okay job for the budget they probably had. The set worked very well, and they made good use of the small space. The music—an ominous pounding drum, the occasional flute or trumpet—was pitch perfect and amped up the tension. Costume were interesting. The men wore an interesting mix of business attire and military attire (think suits with combat boots), which I think really emphasized the two different worlds present: politics and war. The suits, however, were really interesting. They were all partial. For example: Bassianus wore combat boots, dress pants, a dress shirt, but his coat was only one shoulder and one sleeve. Unfortunately I don’t have a picture, but hopefully you can imagine it. It was actually kind of cool; I can definitely see Ralph Lauren trying to bring that back on the runway. Other times the butchered suit look didn’t work, and for the most part I didn’t see the relevance of the style. But still, costumes were hardly the most important part of the show.
Without hesitation, the most standout performances were by Tamora (Queen of the Goths) and Saturninus (Emperor of Rome). Tamora simply looked the part with her close-cropped bleached blonde hair and regal features. Her acting, too, was perfect for the part. She managed to embody the grieving mother, fierce warrior, and manipulative queen. Saturninus seem to hold a smoldering fire within him; he was always on the verge of some emotional explosion. Smarmy, cool, and always collected, Saturninus pulled off what Alan Cummings did in Titus.
Other characters had their moments. Demetrius, Chiron, and Livinia shone during this fateful confrontation in the forest (red lighting and pulsing drums definitely helped set the mood). Lucius and Aaron had a wonderfully vicious and playful time when Aaron goes to meet the Goths. Aaron was another standout character, always with a smirk on his face, delivering his monologues with an ease some of the other characters didn’t have.
Perhaps the best part of the show, however, wasn’t even onstage. Hugh and I enjoyed watching the other audience members for their reaction. Apparently the couple near Hugh didn’t come back after intermission. The older couple next to me had such comments as, “Lord have mercy” and “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” The group in front of us was physically cringing and flinching. You know you’re doing a good job when that happens.
Hugh and I discussed how many depictions of Titus Andronicus emphasize the gore and ghastliness, but forget that it's a tragedy, not Hostel meets Rome meets Inglourious Basterds (minus the Nazis). Even Taymor's Titus was more a acidy romp (though that's pretty much what I love about it). But the heart of the piece is sorrow, loss, family and family obligations. Shakespeare definitely wrote it in the script, and the scenes, when decpicted, are always moving, but that feeling doesn't seem to permeate the whole piece. Oh well. Perhaps it's more a fault in writing than in performance. This was Shakespeare's freshman play after all, and after all, don't we all love it for its insane violence?
In the end, the play was entertaining and fulfilled my desire to see a staged version. There was something lovely about seeing it in such a small, crowded theatre. It was as if I had been invited to a private showing in someone’s basement put on by the friends of a friend. The actors definitely seemed to love what they were doing and that made me enjoy the performance even more.
What I’m trying to say is this: support local theatre, go see the show.
"But I have done a thousand dreadful things/As willingly as one would kill a fly,/And nothing grieves me heartily indeed/But that I cannot do ten thousand more." (Aaron, Act V.1)
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