“Titus Andronicus”
Written by William Shakespeare; adapted and directed by Charles Newell
Showing: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave., through Feb. 10
Tickets: $10-$54
Contact: (773) 753-4472; courttheatre.org

By Brian Kirst

Contributing writer

With its strong visual sense, Charles Newell’s adaptation of Shakespeare’s bloody “Titus Andronicus” can be best described in cinematic terms. Emerging as a combination of the Gothic delights of horror master Mario Bava and the male focused intrigues of David DeCoteau’s “The Brotherhood” series, Newell’s latest is a densely powerful delight.

Newell centers his action at an estate of elite gentlemen where a reading of “Titus Andronicus” is occurring. With its members’ blindfolded entrance and imminent introduction via hazing-like rituals, Newell establishes his cast as members of a secret society with two honored female guests. The members stumble through the script initially and overact with grave passion. Eventually, the sick power of the words overcomes them and they wind up acting out Shakespeare’s revenge scenario in real time.

Often ridiculed as one of Shakespeare’s more immature and uninspired plays, “Titus Andronicus” actually contains many passionate, gruesome pleasures. This ultimately establishes it as one of his most enjoyable works—if not his most accomplished. Roman general Titus Andronicus returns after 10 years of war with Tamora, Queen of the Goths, and her three sons as his captives. Andronicus sacrifices Tamora’s eldest son, earning her eternal wrath. After Tamora is made empress by Saturninus, the new emperor, she plots to avenge herself. With the help of her lover, Aaron the Moor, Tamora frames two of Titus’ sons for murder, arranges for the other son’s banishment and implicates herself in the rape and mutilation of his beloved daughter, Lavinia.

Newell’s concept does allow for some of Shakespeare’s more ridiculous excesses to come to the fore. In a highly amusing scene the cast members comically rejoice in the fact that the light of one character’s ring is so powerful that it can illuminate his entire body in a deep ditch. This sense of discovery also brings new appreciation for Shakespeare’s often monstrously beautifully language.

This is particularly true with the monologues of Aaron the Moor. His diatribes contain some of the most blackly sexual and extremely violent Shakespearian notions written. Phillip James Brannon’s simple, underhanded performance of Aaron allows these words to perforate with tension and lust. His subtlety is a gift to poetry enthusiasts worldwide.

The rest of the cast matches Brannon’s level of expertise. Timothy Edward Kane’s outward regal presence cracks in rhythm to Titus’ own decline. Hollis Resnick radiates with privilege and pleasure as does her Tamora. Matthew Brumlow’s inner compassion shines through with his sensitive attack on Lucius, Titus’ eldest son. Elizabeth Ledo trembles with eager love and ultimate betrayal as Livonia. Matt Shwader and Eddie Bennett also perform with glorious vigor and multi-leveled intent in their variety of roles. All involved establish this as one of the best casts working in Chicago theater at the moment.

Brian H. Scott’s piercing lighting design and Leigh Breslau’s depth-defying scenic work are also so intrinsic to the show’s success that they virtually become characters themselves. The detailed work by Breslau and Scott brings celluloid magic to the production, allowing the visceral wonder of this “Titus” to completely come to the fore.