Julius Caesar (review)

Abstract

Another potentially slippery situation, Antipholus of Ephesus’s relationship with the Courtesan, was dealt with lightly by making her a flamboyant, larger than life figure. She was dressed in a crimson jumpsuit that was puffed and ruched, pleated and gathered into an extraordinary garment transcending any fashion period, but would not have looked out of place at the last Met Museum Ball. This was a cheerful, confident woman, but one who was clearly not going to let her forty ducats be lost. Audiences could happily believe that Antipholus enjoyed her company, but was still faithful to Adrianna (whom the audiences I shared the theater with seemed to really like). As though he did not want the audience to be let off too easy, Breen added an unexpected detail at the end. Everyone except Antipholus of Syracuse exited with the Abbess; Luciana then returned to the upstage doorway and motioned for him to join them. Instead, Antipholus turned away and stood alone downstage looking straight ahead. It was not clear what he was thinking, but in that pause, I became aware that, at this and every performance, everyone present in the theater had survived a yearand-a-half of isolation, separation, danger, and the threat of death. What a brilliant choice of a play for these times.