“Nothing much has changed in 2000 years of politics,” claims the media release, and we only have to look at the news over the past few months to prove that’s absolutely true in Rome (vale Berlusconi) and pretty well everywhere else in Europe. And the Middle East. Australia and New Zealand are also ruthless with their leaders.  

Of course the blood-baths of yore have given way to more subtle tactics nowadays, for us at least – e.g. the ongoing ‘storm in a teacup’ involving speculation that John Key and John Banks are conspiring to depose ‘strange fellow’ Don Brash from the leadership of the Act Party and install party president Catherine Isaac, if the populous is mad enough to buy the Epsom ‘match-fixing’ rort and if National needs to do a coalition deal with the party no-one wants to vote for.  

As may be the case with Don Brash (who ruthlessly deposed Bill English as leader of the National party then, when ousted himself, went on to roll Rodney Hide as leader of the Act party), Julius Caesar gets done as he did, having returned in triumph from a victorious war against his former ally, Pompey. But it seems Caesar’s crime now is that he wants to give rights to the poor and oppressed rather than favour the rich and elite. Or is the vice versa?

The propaganda campaign that aligns the conspirators and then the people is so riddled with lies, half-truths, sly innuendo and appeals to self-interest that we might just as well have dropped into an election candidates’ campaign meeting at our local hall.

Obviously The Bacchanals’ decision to mount a ‘no budget’ The Tragedy of Julius Caesar – at a series of suburban halls, ‘free’ (with a koha appreciated to help cover the rent of the hall) – during this year’s election campaign is inspired.

Julius Caesar completes an impressive year of political theatre in Wellington by NZ playwrights, including James Nokise’s Public Service Announcements, The Engine Room by Ralph McCubbin Howell *, Meet The Churchills by Paul Baker* – and (just two and a half moths ago) The Bacchanals’ production of Slouching Toward Bethlehem by Dean Parker *, which explored the same themes in dramatising the political rise and fall of Sir Robert Muldoon. (Parker also adapted Nicky Hager’s The Hollow Men, in 2007, depicting the rise and demise of Brash as National’s leader – NZ politics offers no end of opportunities, it sems).  

A couple of rows of chairs face each other, the Bacchanals ‘arras’ hangs at one end to create a sort of ‘backstage’ space, and that’s it for ‘production values’.  Whatever else the night’s venue offers may or may not be utilised – although a cup of tea at interval is pretty well guaranteed (a gesture which has suddenly gained unintended overtones – or do I mean undertones).

The cast hang about outside and inside to greet us, Jean Sergent strolls about strumming a guitar and singing a song, ebullient director David Lawrence * welcomes us, the players introduce themselves and say who they’re playing …. Then, in total contrast to the super-laid-back style, the play begins with a fully-focused simplicity.

As at this third outing (in Lyall Bay, last night), the entire ensemble articulates the remarkably textured drama with alacrity, be they playing crowd scenes, bit parts, supporting roles or leads. They employ minimal changes of clothing to denote their different characters, venturing no further into literal character or status designations than a suit jacket and maybe a tie for the ruling classes, down-market street clothes for ‘the people’, hoodies for the conspirators and red or blue sashes for the battling factions in the final showdown.

In the wake of his formidable Muldoon, Phil Grieve * brings a mana to Caesar that demands we keep evaluating whether or not he’s a tyrant or a true ‘man of the people’. Each moment is deeply rooted in a subjective truth we cannot help but recognise. In saying he is an actor of integrity I hasten to add, so are they all, all actors of integrity. And it is the way they integrate with the text that brings the play alive so vividly.

Alex Greig * as Brutus and David Lawrence (who likes to call himself ‘Walter Plinge’ when he’s acting) as Cassius also command ambivalence in our responses to their characters’ actions and their rationales. At the top of their games in all their scenes, their private moments together are especially compelling (and here we must thank Shakespeare for making us privy to what, these days, may have been kept from us under the guise of a police investigation).  

As Mark Antony, Jonny Potts takes his cue from the claim that he (unlike Brutus) is no orator and so brings unadorned sincerity to the role. His responses to the swiftly-changing political tides are so authentic that we have to study him hard for any hint that he may actually be consciously strategising to outwit his foes.  

In Calphurnia, Brianne Kerr finds the same loyalty and determined concern for her husband’s wellbeing that she did as Thea Muldoon, then contrasts it with a range of contrasting and often comic roles.  

Elle Wooton’s Portia is a very different kind of wife (to Brutus). She, Kirsty Bruce, Jean Sergent, Dasha Fedchuk, Salesi Le’ota, Andrew Goddard, Benjamin Haddock and William O’Neil, in their many and varied roles, take and/or share the stage whenever they should to keep the story unfolding. All have moments of strength and power, and team-work generosity, meeting the demands of drama and comedy without the slightest hint of ego.  

One of the most insightful, engaging and entertaining elements of this production is the manifestation of malleable public opinion as the political manipulators ply their skills all-too-effectively. As election day draws near, all who observe cannot help but see themselves in this drama.  

The swords, daggers and knives, by the way, are mimed yet the fights are visceral and the deaths are emotionally affecting: that’s another mark of how very good The Tragedy of Julius Caesar is.  

Click on the title above to find out when it is playing near you. Nothing could be more immediately relevant. 

*All these people have been nominated for Chapman Tripp Theatre Awards this year.

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