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Theater review: The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, tyranny, and the Stoicism of Brutus
Not long ago I went to see “The tragedy of Julius Caesar,” by William Shakespeare, in the Polonsky Shakespeare Center (Brooklyn, NY) production, directed by Shana Cooper. The New York Times’ Alexi Soloski really disliked it, but I’ll explain in the postscriptum to this article why Soloski — in my perhaps not too humble opinion — completely missed the point.
But first I’d like to present a philosophical review of the play, both in general and of Cooper’s version in particular. To do so, I will largely focus on the true main character, despite the title: Brutus, majestically played in Brooklyn by Brandon J. Dirden. Though I will also tell you of a surprising post-show bit involving Matthew Amendt, who played Cassius on stage, and who displayed a pretty good mastery of Stoic theory in the discussion that followed the performance.
The basic outline of the play is well known. Caesar is at the peak of his power, and there is talk in Rome that he is about to do the unthinkable: declare himself king. (The Romans had kicked out the last king, Lucius Tarquinius Superbus — Tarquinius the Arrogant — back in 509 BCE, 465 years before the time in which the play is set. In fact, one of the people responsible for the fall of Tarquinius was none other than Lucius Junius Brutus, whom Marcus Junius Brutus (the protagonist of the play) claims as his ancestor. A long family tradition of fighting against tyranny.
Cassius is organizing the plot to kill Caesar on the ides of March (i.e., March 15th), but he needs the support, and indeed leadership, of a highly visible and virtuous Roman, Brutus. Brutus, however, initially questions whether the situation truly requires such an extreme act, particularly as Caesar considers him a friend. But in the end he decides that the danger of a tyranny is indeed too great, and that a free Rome (so to speak, of course, given the times) is worth even betraying a friend.
There is a beautiful scene in the play (significantly altered by the director for greater dramatic effect in the Polonsky production) where Porcia Catonis — daughter of the famous Stoic politician Cato the Younger, and wife of Brutus — displays her own Stoicism. She knows her husband is up to something, but she thinks he isn’t sharing…
