Review: Titus Andronicus (Swan Theatre)

Review by Raphael Kohn

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The perimeter of the stage at the Swan Theatre has been lined with perspex screens. Patrons in the front rows have blankets on their seats to cover their clothes. For a production of Titus Andronicus, Shakespeare’s bloodiest play, that’s a pretty ominous sign. And after seeing the production… well, I can confirm they’re probably a good idea, just in case of any splashes. But this isn’t just Shakespeare’s bloodiest play; it’s a bloody good production of the bloodiest play.

Thankfully though, while it is bloody, it’s not actually particularly gory. Violence happens throughout, but from afar. Throat-slashings and gut-stabbings are mimed from the opposite corner of the stage, with blood erupting from the victim almost spontaneously. At first, it seems odd. But then, it’s almost even more brutal. With the audience wrapping the thrust stage from three sides, everyone has a close view of blood spurting out of the actors’ costumes, never blocked by another actor’s blade.

The whole thing is permeated by this violence. And it’s all staged in heavily stylised ways, starting with the aforementioned mimed slashing and eventually bringing out cranes to lift victims into the air, upside-down, and even a hose full of blood to drench the victims. Oh, and there’s a chainsaw at one point. Most of it works tremendously, with the chainsaw moment being the most striking of the lot. It’s hardly subtle, that’s for sure.

In a way, it makes for an interesting contrast with the rest of the play. The weapons are blood-red, as are most of the vessels holding gallons of blood to drench actors in. But otherwise, it’s rather stark and minimalist. Director Max Webster’s stylings, which helped his Macbeth a sell-out hit at the Donmar Warehouse and in the West End, make a return here, with the play performed on Joanna Scotcher’s white stone slab, with the most minimal of setpieces to accompany it. Beyond a table, some benches and a few props, there’s really very little used at all.

The entire thing is rather monochromatic in Scotcher’s grey, white and black costume design as well. There are flashes of colour in the Goths’ prison outfits, decked out in blue, which are soon abandoned after the beginning of the play. And of course, there’s red to flood the stage whenever someone dies. But otherwise, it’s designed with restraint and poise, lit in harsh whites and just a spattering of reds by Lee Curran. That works to Webster’s favour though, putting the focus onto a remarkable cast who execute the play tremendously.

The centre of this all is really Simon Russell Beale’s titular Titus Andronicus, and for good reason. That reason is that he’s frankly brilliant. Exploring every inch of his character’s depths, he goes on a journey from the battle-hardened general to the maddened statesman he becomes. His softer side does get to come out in his reactions to the wrongs done to his daughter Lavinia (a tremendous Letty Thomas, utterly magnetic in her tragic role), though his madness and brutality does dominate in the latter part of the show.

It is, however, the villains of the story (if there are any heroes to contrast with them) who truly shine. Wendy Kweh’s Tamora triumphs, her vengeance and anger brimming under a poised façade. Similarly, the utterly wicked Aaron, almost irredeemable in his evil, is played to perfection by Natey Jones, revelling in his actions to the bitter end. There’s even humour in his performance, in his scheming with Kweh’s Tamora or his donning of a pearly white apron and gloves before he revs up the chainsaw.

Webster’s aim was to explore the violence ‘through a lens of 21st-century aggression’. Truth be told, it’s hard to see what he precisely meant by that. In a way, the distance between aggressor and victim reflects the distance, either online or through modern warfare, between contemporary instigators and their casualties. Maybe it’s the desensitisation we all, as an audience and as the characters we see before us, feel towards violence in light of the horrifying cruelties we are becoming used to seeing on the news each day. Maybe it’s entirely something different, and maybe that’s the point – maybe it’s about the way each and every one of us reacts to it.

So on plays Shakespeare’s bloody massacre of a play in the Swan theatre. Sometimes the pacing gets a little rough around the edges, as if we’re waiting for Webster’s next setpiece murder or trundling through some of the less interesting scenes. But by and large, it’s a brutal night out, executed brilliantly by its actors who absolutely kill it throughout. But please, read the bloody content warnings before the show.

Titus Andronicus plays until 7th June 2025 at the RSC’s Swan Theatre, Stratford-Upon-Avon. Tickets from https://www.rsc.org.uk/titus-andronicus

Photos by Marc Brenner