Julius Caesar
by William Shakespeare
Directed by Wes Martin
The Shakespeare Theatre
Phoenix Theatre's Little Theatre, Phoenix
(602) 796-2038
April 2nd - 18th, 2004
$10.00 - $15.00

With Enron, WorldCom, and Arthur Anderson defining the collapse of the Dot Coms and the start of the new millennium, Wes Martin has seen the tragedy of the situation and come up with an interesting choice: setting Shakespeare's assassination epic Julius Caesar in the boardroom of the multinational Pro Bono Publica. Togas are replaced by suit and tie, discussions with minions take place over cell phones, though corporate backstabbing uses real knives. Martin infuses this theme through a good part of the play, and yet one feels that this was a halfway push: there are so many ways that this theme could have been more supported, but there's a tentativeness that holds this back from being a completely successful corporate takeover. When taking into account the flatness of several performances, this is a tragedy by proxy.

Martin knows his Shakespeare; one of his most successful and underappreciated attributes is his canny ability to cut his scripts without undercutting the action and characters. This time, however, characters diminish with Martin's normally steady trimming. The women are especially stunted, as their inclusion in the script is already minimal at best. Annie Erickson's pouting Calpurnia seems little more than a low speed bump, a tentative stopper to Caesar's (Joseph Kremer) deposing. Andréa Morales' Portia is no longer as prescient, and her dispatching in the second act is more inconsequential for it.

Beyond these and a few other unadvised snips, there is a noticeable lack of shading in many of the performances that renders the evening feeling more like a shout-fest than an emotional overthrow. Barry Finnegan's Cassius takes gloomy to new lows. It's true that the character as written is flatter than most in its dolefulness, but Finnegan is brooding and little else. Balancing him, the ordinarily strong Michael Sherwin is simply all right as the noble Brutus. His speeches lack the balances of fire and thought one usually expects from such an accomplished actor, and he seems to glide through, rather than control, the proceedings. His emotions seem more canned than released. Kremer's Caesar is straightforward, and even somewhat plain. Though he plays a bit haughty, it's hardly understandable why anyone would want to plunge a dagger into such an easygoing fellow. The big surprise of the evening is newcomer Cale Epps as Marc Anthony. Ordinarily presented as pensive and soulful, driven to action by others, Martin and Epps here give a twist in elocution that makes Anthony's motivations a bit more suspicious, and a lot more interesting for the re-visioning. He is a passionate speaker, a fiery and self-assured presence that electrifies this otherwise staid production.

Bob Johnson's riser-dominated set is nondescript, while Andrew Hutchinson's lighting has a few impressive flourishes utilizing gobos. Morales' and Cari Smith's costumes are better in theory than in execution. The change between acts one and two are well thought out, but are tripped up by footwear choices: how can anyone in a corporate suit think that they can get away with Doc Martens?