Julius Caesar

As the scheming Cassius, Lisa Hickey offers a standout performance as one of those in the entourage who has clear thoughts and aspirations but not the courage to see them through for herself. She quickly pounces on the superstitious warning, using it as one chink in Caesar’s armour before cleverly planting the seed of ambition in her colleague Brutus. The stage is set for the conspirators to bring down the head of state – and they only have one night in Rome to do so.

Director Adrienne Costello uses the maze-like reservoir setting works to advantage as the audience is constantly on the move, following the lead performers into different rooms for each key scene. Suitably Gothic lighting and sound by Cage Nosenzo and Elspeth Sutherland add to the atmosphere and experience.

While the pace lagged slightly (sure to speed up after opening night), the movement of actors and audience helps to add the needed momentum to the time-limited action. Designers Rebecca Austin and Tracy Klupfel are smart to let the dramatic backdrop do most of the work, hanging the concrete dungeons sparingly with Christ-like images that allude to the delusions of grandeur that Caesar (JC as he is dubbed in one introduction) is letting seep into his ruling style.

As Caesar (and his own heir apparent, Octavius) Peter Condon could be a strong ex-military man but he lacks the looming dictator’s air that would give his Caesar the gravitas to explain the conspirator’s ardent bent. Brent’s Schon’s Brutus is more knife-edged, his own craving for control sharply drawn and clearly visible on his face – especially with the shadows thrown by the lighting in the reservoir. The use of sticks instead of daggers unfortunately blunts the sense of danger but this is, no doubt, a health and safety issue when audience and actors are in such close proximity.

The immersive atmosphere included use of smartphones to film and tape interviews, hinting at the media feeding frenzy that would have occurred had these events happened today. But of course, we don’t have to imagine too profoundly, as the timing of this piece couldn’t be more perfect with recent shenanigans in Australia politics. I did wonder whether Chris Vaag’s Marc Antony’s baldness might have been be a nod to one key player in our own recent ‘coup d’etat’. But then his demeanour and ‘all honourable men’ stance could be taken directly from a piece to camera by ScoMo as the ‘reluctant’ leader of choice.

One of heartBeast Theatre’s aims is to present pieces that extend and shift audiences’ perspectives. It’s a fascinating and successful experiment. There would not be an audience member present who did not feel that they were a part of the action, with the tangible possibility of also being swept up in the conspiracy – certainly a feeing hard to induce from the safety of a seat on the other side of the proscenium. While it is unfortunate that the Spring Hill Reservoir is currently not an accessible venue (there is no wheelchair access), it is well worth walking down the several flights of steel stairs to be part of this immersive encounter with Shakespeare.

Beth Keehn

Photo credit: Kim Wheeler