Coriolanus

It's always amusing to me how obscure plays tend to have their seasons where suddenly everyone decides to produce the same one. This year it's Coriolanus, with both Seattle Shakespeare's play and the movie with Ralph Fiennes. I haven't seen the movie (yet), so just to ease confusion, this review is for the play.

As one of Shakespeare's more obscure shows, the plot probably needs some clarification. Rome is in conflict. On the outside they face the armies of the Volscians, but inside the people are revolting after enduring famine and taxes while the rich have nothing but surfeit (sound familiar?). They place most of the blame on a Roman general named Caius Martius. He's the best soldier in the army, has quite the temper, and thrives for battle especially against his greatest enemy Tullus Aufidius of the Volscians. Upon hearing their complaints he basically shuts them all up by being intimidating and saying they don't deserve corn if they don't fight in the war. However, he quickly hears of battle abroad, and upon single-handedly destroying the town of Corioles and going right from there to fight and defeat Aufidius in the field despite his injuries, he returns to Rome and is given the honorary name of Coriolanus. Convinced by his mother that he should run for consul, he is soon embroiled in politics that do not suit his prideful and angry nature. Forced to turn to the people of Rome and "mildly" ask for their voice, he instead balks under the absurdity of having to show his scars to them and beg people who he essentially considers base cowards for their consent to be consul. Spurred by his insolence, and by two tribunes of the people (Brutus and Sicinius) who do not want Coriolanus with their power, the people revolt and take back their word, and banish Coriolanus for his traitorous slander against the people and the consuls. In vengeance, Coriolanus seeks out Aufidius and begs to join his army and help them sack Rome. Seemingly putting his hate aside, Aufidius gives Coriolanus half his troops for the purpose. Wreaking havoc across the land, word soon spreads of the joined forces, and the people's consuls are rebuked for banishing him. In one final effort they send all of Coriolanus' former friends to try to get him to change his mind, but he hears none of them. It is only when his mother, wife and son come to call that he finally relents, and on advice of his mother, brokers peace. But...this is a tragedy after all. Upon settling the peace and returning to the Volscian capital, Aufidius confronts him and calls him traitor for failing to grasp Rome and giving up their advantage because his mother told him to, and then slays him, seemingly leading the way for war once again.

It's a brutal, violent, and highly political story, and it's really a shame it isn't produced more. However, it is still obvious why it isn't. The character of Coriolanus is really unsympathetic, and so you don't really feel bad when his throat is cut. Also, in the style of its main character almost all emotional or "human" moments that you find in most of Shakes' other tragedies are pushed to the side or severely limited. He's a wonderfully conflicted and tortured character, especially around his mother, but there are almost no soliloquies or internal monologues going on here. As the tribunes say about him, "His heart's his mouth: What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent". What this essentially leads to is a play disconnected from all but fury. It's as if we the audience are Coriolanus' wife: emotional, searching for his heart, and doing all we can to stave off such blatant anger. But the play responds as Coriolanus does, holding us for brief moments, but otherwise losing itself in its passion.

I muse over all this because despite my lack of emotional connection to the play, I still enjoyed it. The actors were all exceptional, especially Mike Dooly back in fine form as Aufidius after a mediocre turn as Theseus in Midsummer. David Drummond in the title role was also a prime example of how to take a part that's mostly shouting and find the levels and complexity in it. The real star of the show, however, was Therese Diekhans as Coriolanus' mother Volumnia, who displayed some wonderful mastery of manipulation alongside an absolutely unwavering conviction in her beliefs. A mother of Sparta if ever there was one.

It's just fascinating for me to look back on this play, trying to gauge my reaction to it, realizing that it was a wonderfully performed play with a beautiful set with these highly detailed paintings on the pillars and constantly shifting boards on wheels and hinges sharing the color theme, and perfect sound design. However, despite getting my adrenaline pumping...there wasn't really anything that seemed to stick, as it were. There was a lot of rage, a lot of panic, a lot of high emotion...but it's like watching a giant flame that impresses you with how bright and hot it is only to burn out all the quicker and leave nothing but the memory of how bright it was.

I'm having trouble putting this into words, but what can I say, the play left me a little torn. By no means was it bad, and you should all go see it while you can, but while the performance was wonderful and asked for my emotional involvement, the play itself rejected it and asked me to simply marvel at this legend of a man who was great...and terrible. In the end...I think the performance won out.

Coriolanus gets a 9/10.