When I was a grad student in London and volunteering at Shakespeare’s Globe, all the ushers were trained in how to help patrons who fainted or felt ill due to the violence depicted on stage. The usual culprit that season? Shakespeare’s earliest tragedy, “Titus Andronicus,” infamous for its gory cycle of revenge that culminates in a macabre meat pie, a few centuries before Mrs. Lovett’s cadaverous concoctions first turned stomachs in “Sweeney Todd.”
Perhaps more than any Shakespeare production I’ve seen in Chicago, Redtwist Theatre’s current staging of “Titus” reminds me of the Globe experience, and it’s not only because of the copious use of stage blood (the spattered pages of my notebook can attest to that) but more so the raw intensity of witnessing gutsy, action-packed Shakespeare in such close proximity. At the Globe, a cheap ticket and the stamina to stand for a few hours will allow you to lean on the very edge of the stage, likely making eye contact and maybe even interacting with the actors. Redtwist’s small black-box theater, here configured as a long, narrow thrust stage, offers a similarly thrilling perspective.
Redtwist’s version is an original adaptation of Shakespeare’s text by Dusty Brown (who also directs), Caroline Kidwell (who plays Lavinia Andronicus) and Jordan Gleaves. The most obvious change is a gender swap of the title role, with Anne Sheridan Smith playing the fictional Roman general who strides in victorious during the opening scene, followed by a trail of royal prisoners. Transforming Titus into a woman doesn’t change the character as much as I thought it might — though one wonders how she had time to give birth to 26 children while fighting all those wars — but it does set up a fierce battle of bereaved mothers in her showdown with Tamora (Laura Sturm), queen of the Goths and later empress of Rome.
In addition, a female Titus further complicates the parent’s relationship with Lavinia, her only daughter and victim of the play’s most gruesome violence. Lavinia’s scenes, including her baffling final interaction with Titus, are as disturbing as ever; Brown’s staging doesn’t attempt to blunt the trauma here. Kidwell’s memorable preshow performance of songs by Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie adds to the poignancy of her character’s fate.
For this production of Shakespeare’s earliest Roman play, the design team has created a modern setting of no particular era, and the elements don’t always cohere. Brown’s sound design mixes Sousa-like military fanfares with mournful underscoring for Lavinia’s tragedy, neither of which has much to do with Kidwell’s preshow music. Eric Luchen’s set is centered around a long table painted with a faux marble pattern, with leaves that occasionally open to become a slightly awkward burial chamber. The costumes by kClare McKellaston differentiate the Roman characters, in rather formal monotones, from the Goths captured in the war, who sport a look that’s part military cosplay, part, well, modern goth. The vain emperor Saturninus, amusingly hammed up by Joshua Servantez, stands apart from both groups in a gold-trimmed mesh shirt and metallic boots.
The design element that worked the least for me was the mixed use of realistic and stylized depictions of violence. Madelyn Loehr, who plays multiple characters and gamely dies at least four times (I lost count), adds a new patch of red lace to her blood-stained coveralls with each stabbing. On the other hand, there’s also a literal splash zone for all the fake blood. A minor complaint, but the inconsistency did distract me at times — though I must praise prop designer Leo Bassow’s truly revolting meat pie.
To return to the characters at the heart of the story: more than anyone in this new adaptation, the most artistic license is taken with Aaron — a Black man whom, like Othello, Shakespeare describes as a Moor — and the play is all the better for it. James Lewis gives a blistering performance with a keen ear for the language and a rich voice with finely controlled crescendos. If I’m not mistaken, Gleaves has penned new lines for Aaron, helping us to better understand the motivation behind his vengeful deeds and see a touchingly tender side to him. Perhaps even a glimpse of redemption.
There are very few innocents in “Titus,” and they tend to suffer the most. Marcus Andronicus (Sabine Wan) wonders if “the gods delight in tragedies,” and it certainly seems they do. At least, they’re happy to turn a blind eye to the tragedies humans inflict on each other. Depending on your level of pessimism and the state of your mental health, this nihilistic play might seem like the perfect fit for our era of foreign wars, domestic political violence and cynical power grabs — or it might feel like too much. Take care. Either way, a few things are as clear in the world of the play as they are in our own: Violence begets violence. Justice is elusive. But as Redtwist’s slightly altered plot indicates, even the smallest of mercies can interrupt this cycle.
Emily McClanathan is a freelance critic.
Review: “Titus Andronicus” (3.5 stars)
When: Through March 30
Where: Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr Ave.
Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes
Tickets: $35 at redtwisttheatre.org
