Julius Caesar: Et tu, Brooks Brothers?

As long as there are fledgling theatre companies surviving off the limit of someone's maxed-out credit card there will always be modern-dress productions of Shakespeare plays. Makes perfect sense. You got a bunch of really great shows with large casts and recognizable titles that you can do royalty free with costumes coming out of everyone's closet. Heck, they're all written to be performed outdoors anyway, so just get a free permit from some community garden, find a hat to pass around after the performance and you're good to go.

But when the pros start putting Shakespeare in modern dress, you have to assume there's an artistic purpose involved. Orson Welles' 1937 production of Julius Caesar set in fascist Italy was inspired by events that went far beyond his Mercury Theater's ability to get a great price on a bulk order of black shirts, but the reasons for director Daniel Sullivan's contemporarily-set production currently on Broadway are less clear. Is Caesar's supposed ambition meant to parallel a Republican claim of a public mandate after the last presidential election? Are the senators who murder him really indicative of a blue state uprising? Is the ensuing war for control of the government really a commentary on U.S. military involvement in Iraq? Eh... who cares? Whatever reasons added up to this fun, fast-paced, action-packed production of Julius Caesar is fine by me, even if the only reason it's set in the present is because Denzel Washington looks a lot sexier in a charcoal 3-button suit than he would in a toga or a doublet and tights.

Speaking of Denzel Washington, one of the things that makes this production click so nicely is that once he makes his star entrance and takes in all his welcoming applause, he's willing to get down to the business of letting his Brutus be overshadowed by everyone else. This is not a back-handed compliment. Though he is the central character with the most stage time, Brutus' story is that of inner turmoil as he considers killing his dearest friend for the good of his country. Inner turmoil is nice, but next to the raging blood-lust and political fanaticism of his fellow conspirators he can come off as a bit too much of a... well, an honorable man. And a bit of a party poop. While the others propose killing Caesar's right hand man Mark Antony as well, Brutus advises against too much violence. And at Caesar's funeral, when he's got the crowd on his side, instead of leading the masses to revel in his glory Brutus tells them to stay and listen to Antony speak while he makes his exit. (That scene always reminded me of the old Batman TV show, where the villains would always trap the caped crusaders in some kind of complicated killing contraption, but instead of staying to make sure the job gets done, they go off and rob a bank or something, giving the dynamic duo a chance to figure out their escape.)

Brutus is an observer, a cautious thinking man in this production, and Sullivan surrounds him with an infinitely watchable cast of cohorts to observe, beginning with Colm Feore as a passionate, calculating and, if not totally lean, certainly sufficiently hungry Cassius. He seems to designate himself as the attack dog of this uprising, leaving Brutus to assume the role of calm, mature figurehead -- a bit like the traditional American president/vice president relationship.

I can't put my finger on the exact reason, but William Sadler's Caesar kept reminding me of an alien spaceship captain from some sci-fi pic. (Not a specific one. Just in general.) Perhaps it's the nicely smug and sinister attitude matched with the slightly spiky buzz cut combined with costume designer Jess Goldstein's black military ensemble and snazzy burgundy robe. (Goldstein does a great job throughout, with crisp corporate threads followed by battle fatigues.)

Eamonn Walker's Mark Antony has the kind of rough-edge street eloquence you'd expect from a downtown spoken-word poet, especially in his rhythmically-driven speech at Caesar's funeral. Jack Willis' wry and witty Casca draws plenty of unexpected laughs. (In addition, there are all the expected laughs throughout when contemporary visuals are contrasted with Elizabethan language.)

When war breaks out lighting designer Mimi Jordan Sherin and sound designer Dan Moses Schreier work up some impressive effects on Ralph Funicello's already crumbling set. Is it Iraq? It certainly looks like it. But perhaps in a couple of months it'll just be some makeshift stage in the corner of some Manhattan community garden.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Top: Denzel Washington, Bottom: Colm Feore