Titus Andronicus, by William Shakespeare, Shakespeare's Globe, Dir. Lucy Bailey

There’s a reason why Shakespeare’s first stab at a tragedy is so rarely performed. Its brutal, bloody, romp through umpteen murders, mutilations, and rapes lacks the tragic underpinnings that make Shakespeare’s other works eternal masterpieces. Shakespeare does gore in other plays, but it is balanced against wider mediations on life, death, and love. Titus Andronicus, arguably Shakespeare’s least popular work, is a gory tragedy with a hollow core. Or so the argument goes.

Lucy Bailey’s 2006 production is currently being revived at Shakespeare’s Globe. You are unlikely to see a better production of this troubled play in your life. Bailey has created a staggeringly intense and illuminating production that captures the full-force of the play’s nihilistic brutality, while also poking subtle fun at its farcical pomp. It’s a triumph that is unlikely to be repeated.

In Titus Andronicus blood breeds blood. Titus returns victorious from war with the Goths dragging their queen Tamora and her three sons with him. Titus subsequently sacrifices Tamora’s eldest son to avenge the deaths of his own sons during the war. Tamora and her remaining sons vow counter revenge. Rapes are performed, tongues are removed, hands are chopped off, and prisoners are hung.

Bailey has exploited this violence to the last drop of blood. There have been numerous reports of mass fainting throughout the production. Although I didn’t notice any one hit the deck, there were audible groans and perceptive squirms during some of the more grotesque moments. Following the hype, the gore seemed oddly sedate.

It’s not only the gore that is uncomfortable for the audience. Bailey has used the Globe’s space incredibly inventively, employing the audience as Romans, and repeatedly parading characters through the audience. It’s beautifully effective. Not only does it look fantastic, but it draws the audience into the play’s bloody horror.

Bailey has also created a production that fully explores the play’s sense of anarchy. Random murders occur throughout, people are unnecessarily molested, groundlings are haggled and abused. It is a world that has lost its moral core. In this Rome, there is no morality; there are no rules; there are no tragic underpinnings. That is arguably this production’s greatest virtue. It shines a new light on this once neglected play. Is this Elizabethan slasher flick actually making a subtler point about anarchy, Elizabethan society, and his contemporaries? Or are we trying to elevate Shakespeare again? Bailey’s production leaves these questions tantalizingly open.

 

As I walked out onto the Southbank I was glad to have escaped the play’s nihilism. That is the greatest praise I can heap on this production. The production creates a concentrated world that is uncomfortable to enter and intriguing to observe. It isn’t a great play, but it is a great production. More revivals please?

To July 13^th.