Titus Andronicus
July 2nd, 2006
Just back from a London drama-trip to see Shakespeare’s “Titus Andronicus” at Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre. This is the infamous Titus Andronicus that has been sensationalised by the papers due to audience mass fainting. It has even been compared to modern day Tarantino films, though its prudent to remember that this material has been around for about 400 years.
So how did I do? Did I manage to stand through the fathers killing sons with their mouths exploding in blood, the rape and subsequent cutting off of tongues and hands, the gurgling of blood from said tongues, the then subsequent cutting off of (nearly) more hand(s), the chopping off of heads, the slitting of throats, the sons baked in pies to be fed to mothers, the mothers subsequently getting stabbed (more blood), the blades getting put up places where-blades-shouldn’t-be. How-did-I-manage?
Well, it was so good that I decidedly had to manage, even though it was nearing 30 degrees celsius at groundling-level in the theatre. Worth a mention that the “Groundlings”, of which I was one, are the people who occupy the area in front of the thrust-stage of the Globe. It adds an interesting dynamic having to stand up for the entirety of the performance, as you can walk around to get a better view, and even lean with your elbows up on the stage for a reprieve or to get closer to the action.
They had scaffolding on-wheels to whizz the actors out and around the audience, highly effective as it was highly engaging. We went to the Actors Talk afterwards and it seemed the feeling of us being the (to paraphrase Julius Caeser) “friends, Romans and countrymen” was recognised by the actors who saw us in that light anyway. I certainly wanted to let rip some cheering. In many cases they said spirited-away members of the audience often do.
Some gruesome, often disturbing, moments were oddly black-humoured. That was what probably made them so horrible, like when mad blood-soaked Titus serves (severs) up the son-pasties. Other moments were just plain disturbing, like when the blood periodically ran out through Lavinia’s mouth, bleeding from the lack of a tongue.
The stage was covered in black cloth, to some this seemed a waste of a potentially beautiful stage, to others it was powerful death symbolism. One effect I don’t think anyone can argue with is the spine-tingling mettalic sounds that echoed out from backstage.
The performance did mix genres, from sometimes appearing a tragedy, to others a black comedy. This was not to say it didn’t work, in many moments like when you found yourself laughing at Lavinia picking up her father’s severed hand in her mouth it made it more sickly.
Often the scales tipped far as to lend itself to a farce; how do you shoot a bow-and-arrow with only one hand? Are these the Queen of the Goth’s sons dressed up in drag to play “Rape” and “Murder”? Would you like to buy one of my pigeons?
It could be interpreted that Shakespeare’s lines leant themselves to be performed in this way, some thespians would argue against it, but they could never say the performance was boring. In fact I remember thinking at one time how amazing, considering how old the play is, it has remained so awfully entertaining.
I’ll leave it there, because I’m awfully tired.
