Titus Andronicus - RSC - Review

★★★☆☆

Titus Andronicus is easily Shakespeare’s most savage tragedy. A relentless tale of revenge, brutality, and the cost of honour. For this latest Royal Shakespeare Company production, acclaimed director Max Webster takes the helm, delivering a visually inventive and often arresting interpretation that occasionally stumbles under the weight of its ambition. So, what hits home and what misses the mark?  Keep reading for the full breakdown.

Titus Andronicus follows the Roman general Titus as he returns victorious from war with prisoners in tow, including the Queen of the Goths, Tamora. Seeking justice for his fallen sons, Titus makes a series of brutal choices that spark a cycle of revenge between his family and Tamora’s, leading to murder, mutilation, and madness. As power struggles, political betrayal, and personal vengeance spiral out of control, the play builds to a grisly climax, exploring the devastating consequences of honour, revenge, and unrelenting violence.

Simon Russell Beale delivers a nuanced, measured portrayal of Titus that captures the character's descent into madness with subtlety. His restraint, particularly in scenes of grief and vengeance, offers a refreshing take on a role often played with overt intensity. Natey Jones delivers the standout performance of the evening as Aaron, masterfully balancing charm, wit, and malevolence. His delivery of the Act 5 Scene 1 monologue is particularly gripping, showcasing his ability to navigate the character's complexities.

Letty Thomas presents a compelling Lavinia, transitioning from strength to tragic victimhood with poignant clarity. Her portrayal highlights the devastating impact of sexual violence on strong women — a message still disgustingly relevant in modern society. Joshua James brings unexpected depth to Saturninus, infusing the often-overlooked character with memorable humour, which was a very welcomed pleasure.

The production’s use of technology and stagecraft is inventive, offering moments of visual intrigue that lean into stylised theatricality rather than realism. Joanna Scotcher’s minimalist set design, dominated by grey-marble surfaces and semi-opaque glass doors, becomes a grim abattoir as the play progresses, reflecting the escalating violence. However, this neutrality strips the space of visual excitement. Walking into the theatre, there’s little sense of spectacle, which is compounded by lighting design that relies almost exclusively on stark white washes and plain spotlights. Without the emotional cues offered by colour, scenes sometimes feel flat. The most engaging visual element comes from the stylised blood effects, using hosepipes and splashes, rather than gratuitous gore, that cleverly evoke the unfolding horrors. It’s a smart approach, but not quite enough to compensate for the overall lack of visual dynamism.

However, this isn’t the production’s only misstep. The in-the-round staging frequently results in obstructed views, with crucial moments, including the climactic execution of Chiron and Demetrius, lost behind an actor standing close to the stage’s edge. While you might forgive a single moment of poor blocking, this is a recurring issue, in which the audience ends up watching the backs of performers rather than the action itself. This lack of spatial awareness consistently breaks the immersion, pulling you out of key dramatic scenes and undermining the intimacy that in-the-round staging is supposed to foster.

Compounding this is the decision to dress every character in near-identical grey costumes. While this visual choice may be aiming for thematic uniformity, it severely ruins the audience’s ability to distinguish between characters. This is especially problematic when actors double up on roles, and it becomes increasingly difficult to track who is who. It’s a reminder of just how vital costume is in communicating hierarchy, identity, and character relationships. Here, the lack of visual clarity makes it harder to understand the complex web of loyalties and betrayals. Ultimately, this visual monotony robs the production of a layer of richness it sorely needs.

There are also a few things I didn’t quite get. The incorporation of animalistic motifs, through masks, sounds, and movements, feels incongruous, adding little to the narrative. Similarly, while visually interesting, the interspersed modern dance sequences do not significantly advance the plot.

In conclusion, Webster's Titus Andronicus offers a visually arresting and occasionally profound interpretation of Shakespeare's bloodiest play. While its innovative elements and strong performances elevate the production, certain staging choices and character portrayals prevent it from achieving its full potential. Nonetheless, it remains a noteworthy addition to the RSC's repertoire and a worthwhile watch for Shakespeare fans.