Julius Caesar, Globe Theatre, directed by Dominic Dromgoole

Julius Caesar was written for the communal and expansive interior of Shakespeare’s Globe. Dominic Dromgoole has enthusiastically channeled this in his latest production of the play at the Globe. The groundling space is utilized at every possible moment to reflect the bustling burgeoning democracy of Rome. The standing audience are employed as Roman citizens (without pay, unfortunately) and required to express favor of disfavor at the politicians who sprout wisdom in front of us at various intervals. It’s a canny device that satisfies the appetite for ‘a Globe experience’ but arguably distracts from what is otherwise a fairly lukewarm production of Shakespeare’s political masterpiece.

More so than any other play, Julius Caesar hinges around its array of complex characters.  With little in the way of action, the play’s first half is a web of speeches and counter-speeches, plots and counterplots, intrigue and counter-intrigue.

Senators Cassius and Brutus suspect Caesar of becoming too monarchical in Rome’s new democracy. By enlisting the support of other disgruntled senators, they conspire to murder their leader and install a new democracy in his place. His assassination, the ramifications, Mark Anthony’s response and the ensuing civil war dominate the second half.  It is one of Shakespeare’s great plays, a pertinent reminder of the perils of government. Why then does the play seem to fall flat in its natural home?

Despite flashes of rapport and some good set pieces, the acting is almost universally understated. This lack of passion is doubly arresting in a play that is dominated by passionate politicians. Luke Thompson has been curiously cast as Mark Anthony. His speech denouncing the conspiracy, which should be on the most rousing speeches in theatre, is a quiet piece that wouldn’t be out of place in an accountants’ lunchtime meeting. There is none of the passion, conviction, or rhetoric that would rouse a nation into civil war.

George Irving’s docile Julius Caesar is also miscast. Nothing about his hushed and laboring tones suggest a potentially tyrannical dictator. Barring excellent performances from Christopher Logan and Anthony Howell as Casca and Cassius respectively, the conspirators are also oddly impassive. Brutus in particular lacks the internal trauma that will lead him to murder his friend and leader.

The pacing is also tediously lackluster.  This three-hour production could easily have been performed in just over two-hours. The forward-drive that should characterize the play has been stripped away to leave a slow-moving plod through different vignettes on politics. Likewise the decision to place Caesar’s funeral before the interval dissipates the brutal energy that should fuel the second half.

This is a perfectly adequate production, but it whole-heartedly fails to capture the latent electric energy that should ignite this play. Why would revolutions be started over this?