Richard Roxburgh, Damon Herriman and Toby Schmitz relish a brutally amusing aesthetic battle; Bell Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar misses the mark
Cameron Woodhead
Updated ,first published
THEATRE
Art ★★★★
Comedy Theatre, until May 17
A violent argument over the purchase of a work of art derails an old friendship in Yasmina Reza’s satirical three-person piece: Art. The 1994 play was revived on Broadway last year starring Bobby Cannavale, Neil Patrick Harris and James Corden, and the cast of this new Australian production also has celebrity sheen, as Richard Roxburgh, Damon Herriman and Toby Schmitz step into the ring of wildly entertaining aesthetic debate.
Conflict erupts when Serge (Herriman) purchases a painting – an all-white painting, also white, on a completely white canvas, with a few modest lines across it – for an eye-watering sum. His old friend Marc (Roxburgh) can’t believe it. He despises the painting, denouncing it as “shit” and developing an almost monomaniacal obsession with how awful it is.
Standing his ground, a resentful Serge defends the artwork and lashes out at Marc’s unbridled disdain. The aesthetic battle soon becomes personal; The warring parties begin to cross red lines, and their mutual friend Yvan (Schmitz) tries to calm both sides.
His diplomatic efforts backfired. Yvan’s sharp-tongued friends see him as a hedge keeper and direct all their anger at him. As passions and claims continue to evaporate and no middle ground can be found, it seems that either the painting or the friendship will have to end.
Art it is as much about the contours and power dynamics of male friendship as it is about traditional hierarchies of aesthetic value. Both are subjected to humorous scrutiny in a play that starts from a seemingly trivial premise, then jokes, argues, and develops into different things. seinfield– An almost solipsistic sense of anger at a perceived crime against obsessiveness and pleasure, fueled by the bruised egos of those who describe themselves as intellectuals, turning into a post-industrial farce of manners.
Although the performances use a neutral Australian accent, Lee Lewis’s production bears traces of a more French approach to comedy, and Roxburgh adds physical clowning to the mix. His Marc, a somewhat womanizing, arrogant, combative intellectual, has an anaphylactic reaction to bad art. He seems to hate the painting so much that it causes him actual physical pain.
Marc’s jagged sense of superiority belies darker, sadder truths, and the battle between Roxburgh and Herriman is a complex one; his serpentine, wounded Serge has a relentless sincerity that can provoke the cynic in anyone.
As the man in the middle, Schmitz’s Yvan proves to be a broad comic foil to the excesses of the play’s antagonists, delivering the highlight of the role – an extremely rambling and self-centered monologue (and truly epic whining) – to immediate applause.
Art It’s a thought-provoking comedy that doesn’t compromise on entertainment, and Lewis is assured that the consistently funny production is a rare chance to see stars of this caliber live in a modern classic.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead
THEATRE
Julius Caesar ★★★
Melbourne Arts Centre, until 10 May
Julius Caesar’s assassination changed the course of history, but not in the way his assassins intended. Brutus and the other conspirators repelled Julius to pave the way for the vast Roman Empire that would replace the Republic that Augustus and the assassins wanted to defend. This dramatic irony was not lost on Shakespeare, and the most overtly political of his plays contain lessons that continue to resonate today.
You don’t have to put in much effort to see how Julius Caesar It is about a world where authoritarianism, polarization and violence are increasing, and we are no strangers to the backlash of decapitation attacks. Oddly, in this regard, the latest Bell Shakespeare production eschews all but the most cursory contemporary framework.
this one Julius Caesar It’s set in a rusted industry somewhere, complete with a gloomy, dark synth soundtrack and a few stark, combative transformations after the game, kidnapping the dogs of war. It’s a speculative, slightly dystopian vision with a vaguely video game aesthetic.
From Robyn Nevin to Natasha Herbert, I’ve seen women portray Marc Antony. Here the noble Brutus is gender reversed, and Brigid Zengeni’s performance proves the eye of the storm in this production, lending a languid intensity to Brutus’s idealism and a heartbreaking quality to the scene in which Brutus keeps his wife Portia (Jules Billington) unaware of his plans.
The play’s political intrigue unravels inevitably quickly, buoyed by the pugnacity and cunning of Leon Ford’s Cassius, the perfect complicity of Gareth Reeves’ Casca, and Ray Chong Nee, James Lugton and Ruby Maishman, who are ably supported as his fellow conspirators.
Unfortunately, Septimus Caton’s cartoonish arrogance as Julius Caesar doesn’t leave much room for pathos, but the first half gives viewers greater satisfaction when it ends mid-thriller-like stabbing.
After the break, the wheels fall off the car.
Mark Leonard Winter as Marc Antony barely makes his presence felt in the first half and more than makes up for it in the second half. I wasn’t sure if the actor had a cold, but the arc from playboy figure to serious actor lacked definition and the delivery of the poem seemed labored due to stress and tension; a fatigue that does not allow rhetoric to work its magic.
It’s not ideal, given that Marc Antony’s speech over Caesar’s body is one of the most famous pieces of political rhetoric of all time, but there’s a periodic flow to the aftermath, and Zengeni, Ford and Reeves face their fate with grim dignity as the conspirators reap what they sow.
There’s no denying that the cast is talented. But this uneven production doesn’t always make full use of this talent, and feels oddly distant from the world outside the theater compared to other contemporary Shakespeares.
Reviewed by Cameron Woodhead
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