As Republican presidential hopefuls trail across the country, trying to convince the populace of their common man worth, so Coriolanus squirms atop a pedestal, muttering about unwashed masses as an “Occupy Rome” crew pokes and prods him into proving his worth for their Senate.
Director David Quicksall takes one of Shakespeare’s lesser known historical plays and trims it down to a witty commentary of current politics. Or maybe power grabs by the rich and poor alike remain depressingly the same no matter what the age.
The Roman general Coriolanus, played with brute strength by David Drummond, returns to Rome to find himself ensnared in politics and family ambitions—much of the ambition provided by his marvelous manipulative Mommy dearest Volumnia (Therese Diekhans).
While Quicksall resisted putting the elegant Volumnia in Barbara Bush attire, one can’t help but draw parallels between Babs’ ambitions and that of this other mother determined to see her son acclaimed even if it destroys him. While Coriolanus whines that he just wants to go back to the field (battle, not baseball), Volumnia and his friends put him up for a Senate seat. Meanwhile, his sweet wife Virgilia (Shanelle Leonard) and her desperate housewife friend Valeria (Heather M. Persinger) provide a little domestic drama.
Peter A. Jacobs as the political spinmaster Menenius Agrippa shows a particular smarmy way with Shakespeare’s speeches. While not the most poetical of the Bard’s odes about rise and fall of ambitious men, there’s a number of lines that stir up neat connections to our own demands upon our leaders to be heroes and commonplace, and how easily the masses can be manipulated. Of course, when the game of politics is played only for gain, it serves all sides very ill indeed.
Even as Coriolanus begins his reluctant run for the Senate, other Tribunes see the discrediting of this war hero as their way up the political ladder. They begin a smear campaign, using an agitated and none too bright mob to stir up trouble.
So it rolls in old Rome, with allies proving less friendly than enemies, brutal wars fought for little or no reason in far off places, and last minute betrayals prove you really shouldn't go home again. Unlike modern American politics, it all ends neatly in death and dishonor rather than being roasted on Saturday Night Live.
As always, the entire ensemble make excellent use of Seattle Shakespeare’s tiny stage under the Center House. Fight choreographer Gordon Carpenter, in particular, works out a number of new ways for people to bash people without beheading an audience member or two. Although if you’re sitting on an aisle seat, keep a weather eye out for those spears and protest signs.
Warm your evening with politics served bloody raw. Coriolanus continues through Jan. 29 at Seattle Shakespeare. For more information, check their website.
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