Mark Rees
Shakespeare’s Titus Andronicus is not for the faint-hearted. A tale of political betrayal, violence and revenge, it is relentlessly grim, with all manner of bloodthirsty acts committed on and off stage. Set against the backdrop of a power struggle between the Romans and the defeated Goths, the play follows the tragic downfall of General Titus Andronicus as revenge begets revenge in a vicious spiral of cruelty.
One of Shakespeare’s earliest works, it is also one of his most brutal. Severed limbs, savage attacks, and an infamous pie scene—centuries before Sweeney Todd—make it feel less like the Bard and more like Tarantino at his most sadistic. Written at a time when audiences thirsted for such gore, it is little surprise that tastes have shifted since the 16th century, making Titus one of the less frequently performed of his tragedies today. But when done well—such as in this gripping production by Fluellen Theatre Company—it proves a powerful theatrical experience, if not necessarily one for the whole family.
Directed by Peter Richards, the staging, like the script, is stark and bleak. This lean, fast-paced production uses minimalism as a strength, with simple crates transforming seamlessly from coffins to dining chairs, allowing the play’s unrelentingly oppressive momentum to drive forward with little interruption. Evocative lighting and well-placed snippets of music heighten the tension.
At the heart of the production is Derek Palmer as Titus, delivering a performance that is both commanding and deeply human as he descends from victorious general to vengeful executioner. Opposite him, Sarah-Louis Tyler is a formidable Tamora, exuding ruthless cunning as the Queen of the Goths who manipulates Rome to her advantage. Meanwhile, Michael Rodney revels in the role of Aaron the Moor, fully embracing the character’s unapologetic villainy, both charismatic and chilling.
The ensemble works well to sustain the play’s intensity. Rob Stradling’s Saturninus is every inch the unstable ruler, while Brendan Purcell’s Marcus brings a quiet dignity to the chaos. Sarah Elizabeth rises to the challenge of Lavinia, one of Shakespeare’s most harrowing roles—a character who suffers unspeakable violence which, though never gratuitous, remains deeply affecting and shocks in ways best left unspoiled.
More than just a blood-soaked relic of Shakespeare’s early career, Fluellen’s Titus Andronicus is visceral, uncompromising, and staged with ingenuity. Later this year, the company will celebrate a remarkable 25 years in the business with a play that is its total opposite—the fairy-filled comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream. If that’s Shakespeare’s greatest dream, then Titus is the stuff of nightmares.