Petty Men ★★★★

Petty Men is a revitalised, animated, bloodied intrusion on Shakespearean theatre. John Chisam and Adam Goodbody play unused, bored understudies of Brutus and Cassius in a mainstream production of Julius Caesar, shunned to their dressing room whilst the real stars take the stage. Confined together, only over the show relay do they hear the actual production taking place without them. They entertain themselves by reenacting the play alongside. Goodbody as U/S Cassius is intricate, able to recite line by line the whole production, committed to his craft, yet saddened by how large his efforts go when they are restrained to a solo, unobserved, unappreciated performance. Chisam plays a more relaxed U/S Brutus. Hopeless of the possibility of taking the stage, he celebrates their 100th show (or in their case 100th non-showing) with nonchalance and fun, unpractised on his blocking and lines, using attendance as an optional choice.

The pair balance between disillusioned hope they will premiere their role and snarky criticism of apparent production choices. Arcola’s second stage worked perfectly with its underground concrete setting. Tucked away, below the main stage – Stage 2 is as if the actors are choice two.

Chisam and Goodbody bring brilliant comedy. An example being moments where U/S Cassius eloquently speaks his lines whilst U/S Brutus responds colloquially, so-called ‘saving’ his big speech for the actual stage. The play as a whole uses the Julius Caesar text magnificently, weaving quoted dialogue, the actor’s thoughts and a third mixing of new conversation in a Shakespearean tone. A subtle way of pushing how this text, this script, is running the lives of these actors. Having it rule over their ambitions and lives whilst giving them nothing in return.

Petty Men accurately captures the working actor reality – that a big break is always out of reach, no matter the prep gone into it – touching on star-casting and empty avant-garde takes. All that’s left is intense manifestation and a repetition of ‘We are good actors’ to keep yourself going in this ruthless industry.

Although it is hinted that they are under a long-term time of boredom, a perhaps more established routine is expected. The characters still manage to find new excitement in the household objects around them, involving them as props and supporting characters as they reenact. However, considering it is their 100th show, we perhaps expect an established routine to reflect their boredom. U/S Brutus involves his homegrown plant in the action, as if it hasn’t been in their bare dressing room for all these days. Their curiosity and ability to play is entertaining to watch, yet perhaps more realistic if they were still in earlier times of their run.

The real turn in the premise is the actors start to subtly, and then more outwardly, hope for an onstage disaster. They recognise a twisted hope that should the principal, Brutus, or Cassius get injured, sick, or even die, it would bring the opportunity to finally don their costumes. A brilliant parallel to Brutus and Cassius’ actual killing of Caesar. They both threaten to kill for either a better performance or better Rome, whilst the audience questions whether their true ambition is a more selfish want for power.

We see U/S Brutus and U/S Cassius’ harmless dreaming turn into more violent wishing. This is the real meat of the play, where jaws gape and the lights flash, setting it apart from a Julius Caesar interpretation and making it a true piece of outstanding original theatre.

The chaos comes perhaps slightly too early on in the piece. More is wanted of the story, of these characters, perhaps calling for a longer piece, or at least longer within its first act as the characters recreate the play. It needs the opportunity to see them slowly dissolving into violent thought as opposed to a sudden snap. The second half is the meat of it, but as a whole it risks feeling like the first half is just waiting to get to the second. The piece needs to let the first half relish, develop, and take its own space to properly set up the madness.

Its standout design element is director Julia Leval and captioning designer Perri Schofield’s use of creative captioning. Subtitled projection is seen above the characters, an excellent accessibility feature and comic attribute, narrating tennis ball bounces or microwave wiring.

To those new to subtitles in live theatre, it might feel natural to try to ignore them and focus on the action on stage. But the captioning demands attention, slowly shifting from just a description to how the Julius Caesar script commands over the actors, mixing colours, fonts and voiceover work to predict their next steps, control their outrages and bring a whole new element to the piece. It becomes interactive, an uncanny answer to their prayers.

Petty Men stands out as more than just a radical retelling of a Shakespeare classic; it is a strong individual piece. Dramaturgical efforts do not go unnoticed, giving Shakespearean details for theatre lovers to pick up on. A few tweaks are perhaps needed to move more smoothly into its second act, but a strong Rome still stands.