Julius Caesar (Series 1 Episode 4)

Julius Caesar

First transmitted 11th February 1979

 

Richard Pasco, Keith Michell and Charles Gray take us to Ancient Rome for paranoia and murder

 

Cast: Richard Pasco (Brutus), Keith Michell (Mark Antony), Charles Gray (Julius Caesar), David Collings (Cassius), Virginia McKenna (Portia), Elizabeth Spriggs (Calphurnia), Garrick Hagon (Octavius Caesar), William Simons (Trebonius), Sam Dastor (Casca), Alexander Davion (Decius Brutus), Brian Coburn (Messala), Darien Angadi (Cinna), Andrew Hilton (Lucilius)

Director: Herbert Wise

 

I have always had a soft spot for Julius Caesar. I have also always loved the classic BBC Roman drama series I, Claudius. So I should say that from the start I was pre-disposed to like an ancient Roman set Shakespeare drama, directed by the man who made I, Claudius. But, even despite this, I’ve got to say this is an intelligent, well acted adaptation of the play, inventively directed and full of a host of good ideas.

 

Returning to the studio set from the total failure of location shooting is a massive boon here. Tony Abbot’s complex Roman forum set feels suitably lived in. Yes if you want you can pick fault with an (obviously) fake blue sky that is artfully concealed in the background of several shots (and a matte painting hill), but remember the constraints of the time. And I would take imaginative direction and good acting over an expensive location shoot ham-fistedly managed any day.

 

Herbert Wise effectively creates a sense of scale here with a series of effective crane shots. Right from the start, the camera looms down and into an empty street, while we hear the chants of “Caesar, Caesar” off screen from the Roman crowds. It straight away creates an atmosphere, before the screen is populated with a vibrant crowd scene. These shots are repeated at key moments throughout, always acting to stress the grandeur of events, most notably in the meeting of the generals before the final battle.

 

In fact the camera work throughout is actually rather sophisticated. Long takes never appear static as a roving camera is used throughout, moving in and around the characters, prowling behind the actors, making the viewing experience the most immersive I’ve seen so far in this series. Wise’s camera makes the viewer as much a conspirator as the senators, joining them in close conversations and twitchily moving with them, as if under a paranoid scrutiny. Crowd scenes are shot throughout with an intelligence and dynamism that suggest a far larger company – Antony’s speech uses the crowd particularly well. A neat trick is carried out by having the crowds rush to get their revenge for Caesar’s reveal leaving behind (in a reveal to the audience) the soothsayer staring at Caesar’s corpse (take a look at the image below to see what I mean). Put your prejudices aside – this is seriously well-made stuff (for the time). Imagine what could have been done with the budget of The Hollow Crown here. And god almighty it is such a relief to find something so well made after the disaster of As You Like It.

 

Where Wise really scores in is that his directorial invention is not just restricted to the technical. Genuine thought about interpretation and the text seems to have gone into this, in ways which haven’t really been as apparent in any of the other productions I’ve seen so far. To Wise this is a paranoid, claustrophobic, political thriller with a real psychological edge and every directorial flourish is built around creating this interpretation of the play. This is most apparent in the decision to have the monologues delivered primarily as voiceovers, with a roving camera studying the actors intently thinking their way through the line and thought processes. However, at crucial points the characters blurt out loud key lines and phrases, as if the thoughts were too strong for them to keep inside. For instance in A1 S4, Brutus’ speech is all voiceover, other than the key phase “then lest he may prevent”. In A3 S1 Antony’s self accusation over Caesar’s body is all voiceover bar “Butchers!” and from “Cry havoc” onwards. It sounds corny when written down, but it not only shows the intelligence of the characters, it also gives a key psychological impact to them – it’s the best expression yet I’ve seen of thinking in this series, and the only real attempt so far to show soliloquies in a cinematic manner.

 

The characterisation of the conspirators also stresses their ‘public schoolboy’ nature. I really noticed the number of times Brutus refers to his school here – at least four characters are old school chums. Brutus himself is a patrician Eton head-boy, totally at ease with his status and expecting respect and deference from those around him, with Cassius almost like an over-eager Eton-fag, yearning for approval. Everything about the manner of the conspirators seems to suggest the simple assurance of men trained to positions, treating the plebians as people who don’t know what’s best for them. It’s clear from the start they never think through any of the things they must do to conduct a successful conspiracy, expecting all to fall into place. These people just don’t understand in any way ’politics’ in the way that Caesar and Antony do.

 

Richard Pasco’s performance really seizes this interpretation of the conspirators with a vengeance. His Brutus is a hard man to like, impassive, arrogant and imposing but crucially not charismatic. He is a man devoid of any doubt once he has made a decision, he seizes the position of authority in any group as a divine right – the slightest questioning of him in A4 S2 by Cassius sees him first treat him like a dismissive older brother and then flip a table over in fury. There is a strange, unsettling calm about him and a sense of a man unable to truly understand the situation he is in. He sees himself as a master of events but is constantly buffeted by them. His appeal to the people is like a top scholar’s detailed homework and betrays his lack of appeal to those beyond his immediate contact. It’s a really interesting insight into a man who doesn’t seem to appreciate and understand anything – an arrogant man reduced in the end to literally crawling through the dirt asking someone to kill him. He is exactly the sort of man these posh schoolboys would think should appeal to the people. Richard Pasco is a little forgotten today, but you can see why he was such a leading classical actor at the height of his career.

 

It’s fair to say that the other performances don’t quite come up to his level. Keith Michell feels a little too old for Antony, and slightly overplays his wilder emotions, particularly in A3 S2. But he handles the big speech very well, subtly demonstrating Antony’s feel for politics. Small moments show him measuring the reaction of the audience and steeling himself to make the correct intervention at the crucial moment. David Collings’ Cassius veers a little too close to camp at key moments, particularly in the play’s opening. What he does do well is demonstrate how unequal the friendship with Brutus is, that Brutus is far more important to Cassius than vice versa. But although he delivers a good sense of Cassius’ willing submission to Brutus he doesn’t manage to make the part as moving as the interpretation suggests it could be.

 

A great success in Richard II, Charles Gray here is too weak a figure as Caesar. His features and manner suggest a stressed Baron von Greenback, and there are too many moments of weakness thrown in by Gray and Wise – this Caesar has a suggestion of an epileptic fit on his first appearance, trips down the stairs in the background at one point and has a constant sheen of sweat on his face. With Calphurnia he appears more as a petulant schoolboy – it all serves to undermine the character a little too much. Strangely, his strongest moment is his ghostly appearance late in the play. For the other performances, Elizabeth Spriggs goes well against type as a matronly, feminine Calphurnia and outshines Virginia McKenna’s high profile but less interesting Portia. Amongst a host of alumni from I, Claudius, Sam Dastor makes an urbane Casca.

 

Whatever small flaws there are in performances here though, each actor really handles the close-ups very well. The pressure-cooker events are nicely conveyed by the sweat that seems to be permanently placed on each forehead, as the camera drills in – at one point right into Cassius’ eyes. Acting without speaking is also spot-on here – unlike some other moments in these productions, the actors are clearly measuring and weighing everything being said to them. It’s striking in A1 S2 how little Brutus speaks, but yet how Pasco is always the focus of the scene and that the viewer learns more about him than Cassius. In A4 S1 the tension of the triumvirate is elegantly shown through a series of tight close ups on frowning, tense faces. Before the final battle, the camera roams around Brutus’ camp, lingering on the faces of the soldiers and observing a desolate Cassius who can hardly look at Brutus as he says farewell. The focus is on character not action – even the death of Caesar happens in the back of the shot, with Brutus’ guilty face as the audiences’ primary focus.

 

It’s probably clear by now that I enjoyed this production a fair bit. I feel there is more that I could mention and as I scan through the five pages of notes I made on this production (the most so far!) I feel sure I missed some things out. Now I will agree that not everything here is perfect – if you are not immersed in the budgeted production standards of the time you will see the obvious sets and dated costumes you expect to see. And yes, the final frenzied stabbing of Caesar partly happens off camera as the actors (clearly!) are not actually driving their swords into his body. But, honestly, look past some of the cheapness and there is some really compelling stuff here. It’s TV with intelligence but not flashy self-consciousness, and there should always be a place for that and I think reflects something we’ve lost in this Golden Age of high production values, brilliantly smart television – that love of something put together on the cheap but with real imagination, creativity and love. So god love you Herbert Wise, Richard Pasco and company – you should be proud of this.

 

 

Conclusion

Some truly intelligent direction delivers, for the first time, an actual interpretation rather than a straight telling of the play. A terrific performance by Richard Pasco anchors a production where everyone has their moment to shine. Stuffed with ideas and creativity, and also with a coherent visual sense and an ability to offer more than the ‘expected’ shots, this is the best film in the series so far.

 

NEXT TIME: Tim Piggot-Smith blackmails Kate Nelligan to surrender her virginity in Measure for Measure.

 

 



As You Like It (Series 1 Episode 3)

As You Like It

First Transmitted 17th December 1978

 

Helen Mirren goes for a stroll in the Forest of Arden and makes us join her

Cast: Helen Mirren (Rosalind), Brian Stirner (Orlando), Richard Pasco (Jacques), Angharad Rees (Celia), James Bolam (Touchstone), Tony Church (Duke Senior), Clive Francis (Oliver), Richard Easton (Duke Frederick), Victoria Plunkett (Phebe), Maynard Williams (Silvius), Marilyn Le Conte (Audrey), David Lloyd Meredith (Corin), Arthur Hewlett (Adam)

Director: Basil Coleman

 

In many ways this production of As You Like It is what led to the existence of the whole series of Shakespeare plays. Producer Cedric Messina, scouting Glamis Castle for another production for Play of the Month, believed it was the perfect location to film the play. On the basis of this proposal Messina then put forward the idea to “film the lot”. So it’s a shame that the production that kicked it all off is such an utter and complete disaster from start to finish.

I hardly know where to begin with the things that are wrong with this dull, inert, poorly acted tedious production. How could something filmed entirely on location look so much more stilted and old fashioned than anything studio-bound? It’s easy to blame dodgy 1970’s BBC equipment for the truly appalling sound quality (large chunks of the dialogue are near inaudible) and the static and unimaginative camera work, until you think that later that year the BBC filmed the landmark Tinker, Tailor, Solider Spy. Surely someone, somewhere dropped the ball on this? Was this the cheapest equipment and crew the BBC had on hand?

 

It’s this quest for realism that destroys this production. Putting the disastrous technical work aside, As You Like It is not a play that responds well to a realistic approach. The forest of Arden is a place more akin to magic realism. In the forest characters seem to wander freely around, don’t seem to actually live anywhere, some see their personalities change completely and events of the first Act are left so far behind that most of them are dealt with in throw-away speeches in the final scene. Basically As You Like It is set in an entirely “unreal” almost dream like world. So if there is one thing you don’t want to do, that’s shoehorn it into a realist setting.

 

But that’s what happens here. By trying to make Arden a real place, with real people, it makes the events and actions of the play almost completely absurd. By trying to impose a sense of geography and setting the action in a relentless parade of clearings (it doesn’t help that this forest seems to have more clearings and fields than trees) you can’t help but start to impose a real world logic on events that on stage you would just accept. Does the Duke really just sleep on the ground as this drama suggests? Why do people just seem to walk around the forest? How big is this forest? How can some people keep walking into each other but some never met? The more realist the approach, the more you focus on the plays (admittedly feeble) plot. Where is the drive here? What are the characters doing?

 

This is hammered home by the listless, lifeless delivery of the most of the actors in the production, and the complete lack of pace and drama that the director, Basil Coleman, has invested in any of the proceedings. This is such a straight reading (and I literally mean reading) of the play, that there is no interpretation at all. What is it about? What motivates the characters? What are their goals? By giving no directorial drive or interpretative energy, the play defaults into a serious of tedious conversations, the lack of drama accentuated by the aimless walking around or lying around on the floor that the actors have been directed to do while delivering the lines. They look so unbothered by what they are saying, and so little affected by any events of the play, that the viewer is left feeling “well if they don’t give a toss why the heck should I invest anything in this?”

 

Strange directorial choices abound. At one point Celia turns directly to the camera and announces “I like this place” as if she is promoting Thomson Holidays. A bizarre ABBA-esque music video quality is given to the final appearance of the lovers, as they dance down a hill dressed in white, intercut with all the other actors staring straight into a slowly elevating camera. Celia and Rosalind play a game of tennis with what look like cricket bats. Early on Le Beau is framed at the end of an alley of trees with his head totally obscured. The actors frequently stand in lines, probably because the camera couldn’t move (there are no prolonged tracking shots at all that I can recall). A flourish of having actors heads fill half the screen in close up while another character talks behind them is abandoned after the first half an hour.

 

And it’s long. Dear god, it’s long. When a production of As You Like It leaves in the sequences where pages sing to Touchstone (heresung by two eminently smackable child actors) you know you are in trouble. But then this scene comes so late in the play, it will only be the die-hard fans and suckers like me still watching. When this play is this dull you realise how many of the scenes until around Act Four basically revolve around characters telling each other things that are happening elsewhere or have already taken place. All comedy is lost in the languid delivery – it wasn’t until A4 S1 that I felt even slightly inclined to smile. It’s a slow, stately, appallingly unfunny meandering production of what can be a very meandering play.

 

I’d love to excuse the actors, but many of them are equally to blame. Helen Mirren is a great actress and does her best, but really her performance is nothing to write home about – you’d certainly not realise watching this that Rosalind is one of the greatest female roles in English literature. Fighting against the elements her delivery is often one note and rather shrill. There are small touches of comedy that might work on stage but are just lost in the outdoors. There isn’t really a sense of the character’s wit or brains until late in the production – for the first two acts she’s almost sullen. Anghared Rees is plain annoying as Celia. Brian Stirner is an uninspiring and dull Orlando – it’s never clear what anyone would see in him. James Bolam seems so keen on people taking him seriously as a Shakespearean actor that he neglects to bring any variance or interest in his delivery, going for a sing-song rendition that makes Touchstone irritating rather than engaging but disreputable.

 

On the positive side, Richard Pasco gives an intelligence and Bergmanesque quality to Jacques. Clive Francis as Oliver is the only actor who delivers his lines as if he is in some sort of drama and is easily the most engaging thing in the production. Dave Prowse (Darth Vader himself!) gives a sweet west-country cameo as Charles the wrestler.

 

But that’s about it as far as positives go. This is as a lame, old-fashioned, dramatically empty, imagination free version of the play. It embodies the very negative reputation this series has. It’s the sort of thing that, if shown to a teenage English class, would have them smacking the next balding man from Stratford they meet. It’s completeness alone that got me to the end. If you want an idea: for the previous two productions I filled four pages of my notebook with observations and comments about the play. With this I did just over two pages. And most of those were simply to state how dull it was. From the awful beginning to the cringe worthy ending, this is possibly the worst film of Shakespeare I have ever seen. I’ve seen it now. You don’t have to.

 

Conclusion

Quite simply the pits of the world. So awful it will make you never want to see the play again, never mind this production. The only good note is nothing, literally nothing, in this whole box set could ever be as bad of this.

 

NEXT TIME: Returning actors Richard Pasco and Charles Gray find themselves in Ancient Rome for Julius Caesar.