Patrick Batiste and Brent Charles (Photo by Grettel Cortes)
Reviewed by Ali MacLean
Independent Shakespeare Co. in Griffith Park
Through July 26th
RECOMMENDED
Photo by Grettel Cortes
Politics is a dirty business. But it is never quite as filthy as betraying your country in a prideful rage, joining the enemy’s army, and returning to sack your own city. Yet, here we are.
Coriolanus is one of the plays in Shakespeare’s canon that rarely gets produced. However, in an era of rulers who erratically shift stances on tariffs, NATO, or on which country they will “wipe off the face of the earth,” telling this story makes perfect sense. The Independent Shakespeare Co.’s production leans heavily into these parallels, a focus made immediately clear by the quote plastered across their poster: “The people are rioting.”
And riot they do. At the top of the show, a gang of loud, unhappy plebeians dressed in shabby grey (costumes by Garry Lennon) almost blend into the muted grey stage. They make themselves known with a chaotic ruckus created with pots, pans, and sticks while protesting (or whining) about a devastating famine. At least, that is the consensus from the VIP stands, where the coddled patrician theater patrons sit. In true immersive fashion, director David Melville pits audience members against each other, encouraging the crowd to pick a side. Though Rome is dabbling in democracy, in this story there is no red or blue — only the haves and the have-nots. The Noblemen versus The People. The Roman senate sits draped in deep red robes and a mass of grey noise threatening violence. Are these villagers MAGA? Are they Antifa? Does it even matter when they are actively planning to overthrow the government?
Driven by shifting loyalties and broken vows, Coriolanus plays out as part political thriller, part Survivor. One thing is certain: Caius Martius Coriolanus is not here to make friends. Played by the captivating Brent Charles, Martius is a soldier with swagger, too much testosterone, and the body count of Jason Stratham. Any heroic qualities he earned at war are instantly canceled out by his petulance at home. Indeed, his own mother — who makes Lady Macbeth look like a Stepford wife — openly calls her son a “man-child.” Volumnia, played with steely resolve and presence by Melissa Chalsma, is arguably more dangerous than her progeny. She is so bloodthirsty she is genuinely excited about counting his battlefield wounds.
When Coriolanus returns from battle, drenched in blood, he is commended for his bravery and nominated for Consul. But he can barely stand to look at the “fragments,” as he calls the public. He detests the poor, making it aggressively clear that these “scabs and rogues” are beneath him — sort of a “let them eat steak” vibe. Charles seethes and sputters at the citizens with sword in hand, like a domineering bully in a gladiator arena. Roman senators Menenius (Lorenzo González) and Cominius (David Melville) have the thankless job of managing his violent tantrums. Menenius also has a trickle-down theory for grain, but that’s another story. Meanwhile, the Tribunes for the people, Brutus (Bernardo De Paula) and Sicinius (Daniel DeYoung), deliver scene-stealing performances. Shifting from indignant dissidents to catty elites dripping in jewels, these two community organizers know exactly how to play the political game — until it backfires, leaving them quibbling while Rome is burning.
Ultimately, the production belongs to its two rival warriors: Coriolanus and the conflicted Tullius Aufidius (Patrick Batiste). Both Batiste and Charles demonstrate an authoritative command over the language, making the verse easily accessible to even the lowliest of plebeians. The duo struts across the stage to the squeals of masculine electric guitars (sound design by David Melville) that sound like if Steve Vai composed for the NFL. Their animosity goes far beyond their broad sword battles; the two cross, double-cross, and triple-cross each other until the bitter end, leaving a country without a true leader and a government in flux.
Imagine that.
Indie Shakes has put on a masterly, if pared-down, show. The set and lighting are perfunctory, and there is little in the way of props or furniture. Instead, the production wisely focuses its energy on the human chess match unfolding on stage. As is true of most Indie Shakes tragedies, the play is intense, and Melville’s production is a stark diorama of power and morality. Much more entertaining — and illuminating — than watching those cable news pundits.
Independent Shakespeare Co. at the upper Dell at the Old Zoo in Griffith Park. Wed.-Sun., 7 pm, dark July 4; thru July 26. FREE but reservations encouraged at https://www.indieshakes.org Run time: two hours and 20 minutes with a 15 minute intermission.
