MURDER, MAYHEM, AND MANIPULATION
JULIUS CAESAR
Directed by David Greenham; written by William Shakespeare
With: Kerry Watterson, David Anthony Lewis, Ted Tibbetts, Dennis A. Price,
Mark S. Cartier, Sally Wood, Jeri Pitcher, Jeffrey Thomas, Jonathan Miller,
Paul L. Coffey, Joshua Scharback, Scott Daigle, Sarah McFarlane, Dennis
Tiede, Adele Bruni, James Noel Hoban, Meg Disciorio, Dustin Tucker, Liz
Helitzer, Saskia de Vries, Denman Anderson
At The Theater at Monmouth in Monmouth, Maine
In repertory from July 5 to August 23, 2003
Reviewed by Laurie Meunier Graves
“At its core, Julius Caesar is another example of why we need to
continue to look to Shakespeare to remind us of our humanity.”
—David Greenham, director
In the United States, the political system is hardly flawless. It is often
gut wrenching, brutal, and nasty—the presidential election of 2000 comes to
mind—and the flaws of the politicians are all too apparent. Indeed, the
system seems so chaotic that it’s amazing that anything gets accomplished.
Time and time again, we see the extreme lengths that our leaders go through
to stay in power. Lies and manipulation of public opinion are the weapons of
choice, and they are very effective. All too often, the citizens are misled,
and they follow the wrong leaders.
However, despite the vicious fighting and slandering that too many
politicians indulge in, blood is not literally spilled, and heads stay
firmly attached to their bodies. Reputations and careers might be ruined, but
no lives are lost.
In The Theater of Monmouth’s excellent production of Julius Caesar,
which is full of murder, mayhem, and manipulation, we are reminded of how
the political system has both changed and stayed the same from ancient Roman
times (when the play takes place) to the Elizabethan era (when the play was
written) to our present system (which, minus the murder bears an eerie
resemblance to what we see in the play).
The plot revolves around Julius Caesar, his bid to be emperor of Rome, and
the men who oppose him. The play opens with Caesar (Mark S. Cartier),
victorious from battle, returning to Rome to claim glory and power. The
“friends and countrymen” want to give it to him, and there’s a wonderful
scene as they clamor in support of the triumphant Caesar. The Senate wants
to give it to him. Indeed, it seems as if the majority of Rome wants to give
it to him.
However, there a small band of malcontents plots to thwart the will of
the majority (sound familiar?). Despite Caesar’s victories, they oppose his
bid for power and will stop at nothing to prevent him from becoming emperor.
The lean and untrustworthy Caius Cassius (Joshua Scharback) is the catalyst
for what soon becomes a bloody coup. Bitter and resentful, Cassius feels he is better and stronger than Caesar and that the wrong man is
getting the crown. A master at manipulation, Cassius convinces the
well-liked but not-too-bright Marcus Brutus (Paul L. Coffey) to conspire
with him against Caesar. This, of course, is not to be done for personal
gain. Oh, no. Instead, it’s for the good of Rome. Other conspirators are
drawn into the plan, and soon enough Caesar is being warned about “the ides
of March.”
Unfortunately, Caesar does not heed this warning or the similar one from his
wife Calphurnia (Jeri Pitcher) or the many bad omens that point to his
eventual murder at the Senate. Although strong and firm, Caesar, with his own thirst
for power, can be manipulated as easily as the gullible Brutus, and he is
egged on by one of the conspirators. Off to the Senate Caesar goes and, of
course, his blood is spilled.
Mark Antony (Jeffrey Thomas), one of Caesar’s loyal followers, is outraged,
but like Cassius, he is capable of crafty manipulation and convinces the
conspirators that he is on their side. Indeed from the start, Cassius does
not trust him and wants to murder him as well as Caesar. However, Cassius
has his own weakness and that weakness is Brutus (more on this later). And
Brutus, whose judgment is stunningly and consistently flawed, convinces
Cassius to let Antony live.
As it turns out, Cassius is right to mistrust Antony. In a wonderful scene
where the crowd is dispersed among the aisles of the theater and their
voices seem to come from everywhere, Antony plays them as surely as a a
fisherman plays a doomed
trout on a hook. Initially, the crowd is in an uproar, and they are not sure
whom they should support. When Brutus gives a nice little speech and
convinces the crowd that Caesar was murdered for the good of Rome, it’s not
long before he has the crowd roaring for him. But then the wily Antony gets
to have his say (again, Cassius objects but is overruled by Brutus), flips
the crowd against the conspirators, and “[lets] slip the dogs of war.” The
conspirators and their supporters are on the run, and Antony joins forces
with Octavius Caesar to pursue them.
I won’t reveal which side wins. Let’s just say that by the end, the swords
flash and the body count is high.
If Julius Caesar were merely a tale of politics and the lust for
power, then it would certainly be good enough. It shows in chilling detail
how this lust takes over and leaves room for nothing else, how it can
justify the most terrible actions, and how this is still true today. In
addition, this play shows how canny those in power are and how easily they
can sway the crowd.
However, what raises Julius Caesar from the good to the very good is
the relationship between Cassius and Brutus. Their affection for each other
clouds their judgment, and each man is persuaded to do things he knows he
should not do. Brutus should have turned away from Cassius at the first hint
of treachery, but instead he goes along with the plan. Cassius should have
followed his own instincts and murdered Antony, who succeeds in turning the
populace against the conspirators and their followers. But Cassius can no
more refuse Brutus than Brutus can refuse Cassius. They are bound too
tightly, a pair of opposites. One is clever and intense but without an ounce
of charisma. The other is popular and engaging but more than a little dense.
Each man has what the other lacks, but paradoxically, they bring out the
worst in each other.
Indeed, Brutus and Cassius are such a compelling pair that by the end of the
play, our sympathies are with them, even though they have committed a nasty,
brutal deed. This is not only because they are vivid characters brought to
life by a very skillful writer but also because we can see glimpses of
ourselves in the unfortunate pair—jealousy, overreaching ambition,
gullibility, the ability to justify the worst actions, and, finally, loyalty
and affection. In the end, they are very human, and we ache for these two
who are as ill fated as Romeo and Juliet.
The Theater at Monmouth does a terrific job with this play. The simple set
starts out with four well-placed cubes and a giant, somber, black and white
painting of Caesar with the words “Vive Caesar” in bright red. It looks like
something you might see in Latin America or in Cuba, and it certainly
goes along with the theme of the play.
The sound system, which must be new, is used to great effect. At times,
music thunders throughout the theater, amplifying the mood of the play. At
other times, there are whispers and suggestions that foretell the action.
But best of all is the acting, which is strong, tight, and energetic.
Especially fine are the four actors who play the lead roles: Mark S. Cartier
as Julius Caesar, Jeffrey Thomas as Mark Antony, Paul L. Coffey as Marcus
Brutus, and Joshua Scharback as Caius Cassius. As Caesar, Mark S. Cartier is
firm and commanding. He has the voice and presence of a true leader and
skillfully shows the underpinning of pride that is Caesar’s undoing. Paul L.
Coffey gives us a deluded Brutus who is affable and not very clever. Not for
one moment do we doubt Brutus’s gullibility or his affection for Cassius.
Jeffrey Thomas shines as the loyal Mark Antony, and his “Friends, Romans,
Countrymen” speech is all that it should be—passionate, clever, and
rousing. It almost made me want to leap to my feet and join the crowd. Last
but certainly not least is Joshua Scharback, who plays the bitter, ambitious
Cassius who lurks within us all. Scharback’s Cassius is smart and observant
and grim. He knows what his weakness is but is unable to do anything about
it.
Politics then, politics now. The blood might be gone, but the lust for power
remains constant. The Theater at Monmouth’s production of Julius Caesar
is theater at its finest, and when I left, I felt energized.
