Coriolanus is neither one of Shakespeare’s greatest works, nor one of his most popular. It lacks the poetic language and hosts a cast of characters who are somewhat underdeveloped and one-dimensional, unlike most of the Bard’s works. Being an overtly political though fictional story, it shares the looming monotony that often infects most Shakespearean tragedies and histories such as Julius Caesar or Richard III.
Yet, beneath the setting sun on a cool but comfortable summer evening, with the grass as our seats, the steps of Philosopher’s Walk our stage, and nature as our soundscape, something magical occurred that transformed this mediocre Shakespearean tragedy into a masterpiece.
This tragedy takes place in ancient Rome, portraying the story of an aristocratic soldier, Caius Martius. Proud and patriotic, Martius leads the patricians of Rome into battle against the Volsces, who they defeat, resulting in a takeover of the city of Corioles. Following this victory Martius acquires the name Coriolanus. Returning from battle, Coriolanus attempts to run for office, but is forced into exile due to two tribunes of Rome who poison voters into believing he is an enemy of the people. Embittered by this, Coriolanus joins the Volsces. Rome deteriorates, the people realize the mistake in expelling Coriolanus and his friends go to him and beg for his return, but it’s his mother who brings him back to Rome. Upon his return, the jealous Tullus Aufidius, who Coriolanus overshadowed while with the Volsces, orchestrates Coriolanus’ assassination.
Expressive and animated acting (by the largely U of T ensemble) was one of the means used to make this show a success. Jeremy Hutton’s heartbreaking performance as Coriolanus was not only captivating, but simply put, flawless. His delivery was full of emotion, which forced the audience to sympathize with such an arrogant but ill-fated character. The passion Shakespeare had intended for this role gleamed through with Hutton’s excellently timed monologues and clear, crisp articulation. In the role of Menenius, Dave Tripp was also well-cast. His lighthearted portrayal was compelling and at the same time managed to be the perfect relaxed foil to Hutton’s intense Coriolanus, providing the necessary balance in such a stoic play. Andrea Wasserman as Volumnia presented the potency required for this integral role. Her final scene in the second act, where she pleads with her son to return to Rome, was honest and sincere.
Not only were the lead performances of a superior quality, but the supporting cast provided a foundation without which the show could have been highly monotonous. Impressive fight scenes and crowd scenes were depicted realistically and pleasingly animated.
What was most incredible about the performance was how the cast overcame the issue of acoustics at this outdoor venue. Philosopher’s Walk has to be one of the most echo-producing areas on campus. That the audience was able to grasp clearly what most of the characters were saying is a feat in itself, which could be attributed to the cast’s high level of articulation. In addition to the constant echo of voices, projection almost became an issue, as when actors were not facing a wall, their voice would carry off into the atmosphere before reaching the audience-but this was dealt with fairly well.
In terms of choosing Philosopher’s Walk as the performance location, it felt as though this play was written for this venue, a product of the clever blocking and inventive usage of space. Despite an energy dip in the second act, a few key moments of insufficient volume, and a few costume pieces which seemed extremely unfitting in the generally modern dress theme (specifically the red vest which Coriolanus wore for the first act), the production, directed by Joel Grothe, was nothing short of enjoyable and impressive.
