Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar (1601) is a play that compels the audience to concentrate and take notice: this is not a play for the inattentive. No, this is a play where Shakespeare’s language is clear, precise, and very deadly, telling its audience to be aware, to beware, of all men who have power and will not relinquish it, and those who seek to take power through violence, especially those who do so in the name of freedom and liberty; without telling you it’s a freedom and liberty born out of jealousy, envy, and class.

If that basic premise of Shakespeare’s most beautifully written play can be achieved clearly and precisely, in this perilous first decade of the 21st century, then the job is half done. If it can also be done with style, and a terrifying verisimilitude born out of superb acting, then you have a memorable and historical piece of theatre on your hands. And Lucy Bailey’s new production at the Courtyard Theatre is exactly that.

The moment John Mackay’s Cassius, and Sam Troughton’s Marcus Brutus, take to the stage and firmly take control of Shakespeare’s words, and clear intentions, you just know this will be a show to remember, for the simple reason that you are completely taken over by the characters these two gifted young actors quietly create, albeit a quietude that slowly, bloodily, and with terrifying emotion, crumbles away to nothing. In this production Sam Troughton has reached a  superb level of ability. When he’s on you watch his every move, listen to his every breath. Those who saw Richard Burton here in Stratford in the early 1950s must have felt the same.

And when Greg Hicks’ Julius Caesar first appears we see a man who is unsure of himself (it’s that class thing again), and a man who has to be reminded of his achievements. What we don’t see is the usual bumbling fool that has often been betrayed in the past, and a bumbling fool that no one cares about or is going to miss. Greg Hicks gives us a JC who has had to fight for his position, who has had to be ruthless to hold onto it, yet is still swayed by those who consider themselves better informed, and of a higher social background, than Caesar. Greg Hicks’ Caesar is doomed, you can see it in his eyes and on his face, and in the jokey asides and hand gestures. Greg Hicks’ Julius Caesar is a masterpiece, and he dies well too.

Now, Mark Anthony is the glamour in Julius Caesar, the survivor. He’s also a great politician and orator – although he denies it of course – and a man who knows himself well and knows how power can be achieved without getting your hands dirty: of seeming to be above it all. And Darrell D’Silva understands all of that, and knows how to show us that he knows it. His Mark Anthony is a brilliant, carefully constructed piece of art and craft that works at every level. Never before have I heard Mark Anthony’s ‘honourable man’ speech so well paced, and quite so ironically well balanced and meaningful. It was a delight to get some clear understanding of Mark Anthony’s intention here, whereas before most other actors seemed to be happy to leave the irony out. Here D’Silva pours it on like sour cream. Wonderful stuff.

Unlike the ironic cream there is not a single sour note in this show, with brilliant performances by everyone, not least Hannah Young’s Portia, Noma Dumezweni’s Calphurnia, Tunji Kasim’s Lucius, and Gruffudd Glyn’s Cinna and Young Cato; this young man has a wonderful presence on stage.

Mention must also go to the set designer, William Dudley, whose video backdrops create a really creepy feel of a Rome glimpsed through the smoke and fire of centuries.

The music too, by jazz composer Django Bates, is like something from a forgotten piece by Miles Davis, which works extraordinarily well.

This production, like the others this season, has once again re-asserted the RSC’s ability to get things absolutely right.

Go and see it.

RSC