Titus Andronicus Off-Broadway Reviews

Berger’s judicious editing helps make Titus sympathetic by eliminating his early murder of his own son, which casts him as something of a murderous psycho from the start. And although Page is justly celebrated for playing villains—and recently de...

Berger’s judicious editing helps make Titus sympathetic by eliminating his early murder of his own son, which casts him as something of a murderous psycho from the start. And although Page is justly celebrated for playing villains—and recently devoted a one-man show, All the Devils Are Here, to Shakespearean ones—it’s his nonvillainy that is most compelling here; there is an underlying nobility, and a surprising tenderness, to his interpretation of the role, and especially in his treatment of Lavinia. Faridany likewise emphasizes Tamora’s maternal pain over her Jezebel-like machinations.

A few of director Jesse Berger’s choices are inspired—e.g., portraying Chiron and Demetrius as beer-pounding, tracksuit-wearing, back-slapping frat bros who are so odious that you’ll be counting the minutes until their well-deserved murder and ...

A few of director Jesse Berger’s choices are inspired—e.g., portraying Chiron and Demetrius as beer-pounding, tracksuit-wearing, back-slapping frat bros who are so odious that you’ll be counting the minutes until their well-deserved murder and mutilation. You might be surprised to discover that Titus has a sister, Marcia (a wonderful Enid Graham); usually it’s a brother named Marcus. It’s a smart, sympathetic switch, especially considering that Marcia is the one who discovers the bruised, bloodied Lavinia and brings her to her father. And when it comes to Shakespeare’s villains (or heroes), it’s tough to do better than Page, who’s played just about every Shakespeare villain and hero there is to play, not to mention the devil himself in Hadestown.

This plotline of villains and deceptions twists with surprises, so small wonder the tone of this modest Red Bull revival often shifts with it, from the formality of a military ceremony all the way over into grim, farcical business involving severed b...

This plotline of villains and deceptions twists with surprises, so small wonder the tone of this modest Red Bull revival often shifts with it, from the formality of a military ceremony all the way over into grim, farcical business involving severed body parts and a monstrous pie. Treating such lurid doings mostly for dark comedy, Jesse Berger, the director, keeps the two-act show’s pacing quick and the emotional temperature reasonably cool with one single jarring exception: A violent assault upon the screaming Lavinia by Chiron and Demetrius is vigorously depicted by the three actors with a physical actuality that’s horrifying to witness.

Page’s adaptation keeps the action brisk, but it can’t fully tame the story. Even so, the constant escalation starts to feel less shocking than exhausting by the second half. Still, the staging remains consistently engaging. Berger makes smart us...

Page’s adaptation keeps the action brisk, but it can’t fully tame the story. Even so, the constant escalation starts to feel less shocking than exhausting by the second half. Still, the staging remains consistently engaging. Berger makes smart use of the intimate theater, with actors appearing in the balcony and aisles to suggest a larger world.

Director Jesse Berger never makes a firm commitment in favor of serious tragedy or tongue-in-cheek comedy, resulting in the uncomfortable cohabitation of gasps and guffaws, a familiar sensation in early imperial America. Emily Rebholz’s severe blac...

Director Jesse Berger never makes a firm commitment in favor of serious tragedy or tongue-in-cheek comedy, resulting in the uncomfortable cohabitation of gasps and guffaws, a familiar sensation in early imperial America. Emily Rebholz’s severe black-and-white military costumes are the stuff of a fascist nightmare, while Jiyoun Chang produces genuine moments of slasher-film horror in her lighting. But sound designers Adam Wernick and Shannon Slaton knew exactly what they were doing when they chose to underscore the horrific banquet scene with a gentle piano arrangement of “What a Wonderful World.”

Under the direction of Red Bull’s Founder and Producing Artistic Director Jesse Berger – and as is frequently the case with this most horrendous of Shakespeare’s tragedies (which has the highest body count of all his works, with a total of four...

Under the direction of Red Bull’s Founder and Producing Artistic Director Jesse Berger – and as is frequently the case with this most horrendous of Shakespeare’s tragedies (which has the highest body count of all his works, with a total of fourteen victims, followed by King Lear with ten and Hamlet with nine) – this adaptation of the gory show is punctuated with bits of comical behavior and laughable characterizations, in an attempt to alleviate the emotional impact of the flagrant cruelty on the audience (and at the performance I attended, it did generate laughs from some). In one scene, Tamora’s sons (Chiron and Demetrius, played respectively by Jesse Aaronson and Adam Langdon), manipulated by the mastermind Aaron (a deviously plotting McKinley Belcher III, who ultimately delivers his famed remorseless confession, “Ay, that I had not done a thousand more” of his heinous deeds) to attack Lavinia (Olivia Reis), are seen doing push-ups and looking at a centerfold, as would be more expected of males their ages than murder. And Saturninus (portrayed by Matthew Amendt) is ridiculously egomaniacal and often completely ludicrous, in his over-the-top facial expressions, movements, comments, and vocal inflections (voice and speech coaching by Dawn-Elin Fraser), with the intention of highlighting the absurdity of his position of power and his unworthiness as Emperor.