The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui at the RSC review

★★★☆☆

The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui by the Royal Shakespeare Company arrives with all the marks of Brechtian theatre. This is a production that knows exactly what it is doing and proves it, repeatedly. Yet for all its technical assurance and intellectual clarity, it raises a more uncomfortable question: just because a show ticks every box so precisely, does that make it entertaining?

Kadiff Kirwan (Roma), Mark Gatiss (Ui), and Rebekah Hinds (Dockdaisy). Photo Credit: Mark Brenner.

Brecht’s satire charts the rise of gangster Arturo Ui, who seizes control of Chicago’s cauliflower trade through intimidation, manipulation, and violence. Beneath the mobster narrative is a clear parallel to Hitler’s ascent in 1930s Germany, with each scene mapping onto real historical events. This production leans into that framework, guiding the audience through Ui’s incremental consolidation of power while constantly reminding us that this story is not safely confined to the past but is, in fact, a timeless tale.

Seán Linnen’s direction is unapologetically Brechtian, embracing theatricality as both method and message. The show opens with five plastic chairs, a microphone, and Mawaan Rizwan delivering a role call, using placards to invite applause. This production is a completed epic theatre bingo card: captions announcing scenes, actors stepping in and out of character, and the mechanics of it all deliberately exposed. However, for much of the show, form and style tend to take priority over substance; it often feels like an exhibition of Brechtian devices.

Mark Gatiss delivers a career-defining performance. His Ui begins as a grotesque figure with false teeth, mumbling and uncertain, with exaggerated posture and movements. But Gatiss carefully destabilises that absurdity. The laughter he invites early on begins to curdle, sharpening into something far more unsettling. By the time Ui fully assumes power, the transformation is chilling. Comedy becomes the mechanism of horror, so much so that you can feel the tension in the room. Gatiss is the standout performer, forcing the observing audience to watch his rise to power and sit with the discomfort of it all.  

Mark Gatiss as Aruto Ui. Photo Credit: Mark Brenner.

Around him, the ensemble understands the demands of the style: rapid role-switching, heightened physicality, and snappy unnatural shifts. Mawaan Rizwan is particularly compelling, his dual role as narrator and Giri carrying an unpredictable edge that feels quietly dangerous. His character is big, bold, and relentless; for a relatively new performer, Rizwan completely rises to the challenge and gives Giri so much energy. 

However, some of the performances became quite tiring to watch, and not in a good ‘Brecht wants to exhaust you’ kind of way. LJ Parkinson’s Givola is relentless in their exaggeration, giving 110% to the character but not allowing for subtler nuances. Similarly, Kadiff Kirwan’s Roma is a palpable physical threat, but that appeared to be the character’s one and only dimension. The ensemble is talented, and its fluidity creates a world in perpetual motion, which is excellent for the production, but it just didn’t entertain me. 

There is a lot to enjoy in Georgia Lowe’s design, from the exaggerated props to the vegetables wielded as weapons. The chaotic nature of the staging helps to chart Ui’s ascent to power. However, there is a large central structure, with the band on top, that moves in and out of the centre stage to hide the placement of set pieces, which feels pointless. Brechtian theatre is not afraid of visible scene changes; here, the device feels more like an aesthetic flourish than a necessary tool. Robbie Butler’s lighting design works well with the play’s aesthetics, using colour, strobing, and unnatural lighting angles to enhance the storytelling. Even when it becomes a sensory overload, it feels intentional. 

Sound design is another moment where there is so much to praise, but the relentlessness of it all makes it feel less impressive. The idiosyncratic rock score by Placebo is incredible; it is equal parts cinematic and theatrical. The real shame is that the music is used only during scene transitions and not throughout; I was disappointed when it stopped so a scene could begin. Similarly, Johnny Edwards’ sound design is brilliant, using textures and soundscapes to build and cut tension. However, the technique of increasing a soundscapes volume to uncomfortably high levels and then cutting to silence was so overused that it became predictable and ineffective. If used more sparingly, this technique is dynamite dynamics. 

The Cast of The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui.

This sense of excess and repetition is the production’s weakness. What initially feels sharp and deliberate begins to feel patterned. The episodic structure, inherent to the play, is not always managed with sufficient variation. Some satirical set-pieces take time to find momentum and leave you disengaged. For all its intellectual stimulation, the production struggles to make you care. It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly why, perhaps because the focus remains so firmly on demonstrating Brechtian technique that the audience’s investment becomes secondary.

Where the production does land with force is in its political framing. It resists the temptation to hammer contemporary parallels too aggressively, instead allowing projections, captions, and performance style to do the work. The updated 2026 epilogue is particularly pointed, drawing a clear line between Ui’s rise and current global anxieties without collapsing into didacticism. It’s a reminder that the play’s warning remains urgent, one that asks questions rather than offering answers.

This is, without question, an exceptional exploration of Brechtian form. It demonstrates a deep understanding of the playwright’s methods and executes them with clarity and confidence. But theatre is more than technique, and here, that technique occasionally becomes the point rather than the means. Still, for those interested in bold, stylised storytelling and a masterclass in performance, particularly from Gatiss, there is much to admire. It may not fully pull you in, but it will certainly give you plenty to think about. A rise worth witnessing, even if it never quite conquers.