“Julius Caesar” as a cold political thriller at the Linz Schauspielhaus

“We are giving a play, nothing more,” Octavian will explain at the end: “The Tragedy of the Life and Death of Julius Caesar” by Shakespeare, as a puppet show of the powerful with a hand-held vacuum cleaner, on the boards that mean the world. Helmut Krausser’s version, premiered at the Burgtheater in 2007, ends in a grotesque farce. The tyrannical murder had its harmonious premiere in the Linz Schauspielhaus on Saturday. Only recently revealed to be a game within a game, the political thriller directed by acting director Stephan Suschke moves oppressively close to current events, even without any concrete current allusions.

Staged for media impact

Greed for power and vanity, seduction and seduction, hypocrisy, flattery and manipulation are causing democracy to falter, even in ancient Rome: in order to save the city from Caesar as king, the senators forged a murder plot. They bring the general around the corner with their own hands. His closest friend Marcus Antonius was allowed to give the eulogy. What the clever rhetorician uses to incite the people to take revenge. Rome sinks into civil war.

Alexander Julian Meile exudes a self-aggrandizing nonchalance as “Caesar”, his self-assurance beyond any doubt – right up to his last words: “You too, Brutus?” He has rejected the crown offered to him three times; his modesty is merely ornamental. Momme Röhrbein presents the ladder of supposed “humility on which ambition slowly climbs” as a wall of cold neon tubes behind empty rows of chairs on the stage. Rome is just a backdrop whose gray emptiness conveys emotional coldness and forlornness. Klaus Müller-Beck plays the mastermind Cassius, whose fingers twitch at the thought of the murder plan. It’s important to get “Brutus” on board: Helmuth Häusler is the hesitant, inner-torn man, Jakob Kajetan Hofbauer is his submissive servant.

With Sven Mattke as Decius courting Caesar, Daniel Klausner as Casca and Lepidus, Markus Ransmayr as Cinna (also Octavian), the plot is forged and the (theater) murder is bloodily staged. The battle before the battle is fought at the lectern, with the audience being addressed directly to the people.

Power makes its way through staged images: with media attention, hands are shaken in the flashlight, the speakers Brutus and Marcus Antonius surrounded by microphones in the background become green, overpowering screen giants under the laurel wreath in the sign of the Senatus Populusque Romanus (SPQR). Christian Taubenheim plays his actor Marcus Antonius with an innocent look, a manipulative master of hypocrisy at the desk who means the opposite of what is said and imperceptibly draws the masses to his side by pretending to be on that of others. Gunda Schamerer and Angela Waidmann are anxious, foreboding wives and, as “narrators,” forcefully sing lyrics by Ingeborg Bachmann to reduced music by Joachim Werner, which arouses subtle shudders or thriller-like tension. Lutz Zeidler drags himself through the streets as a fortune teller who no one listens to. Angelika Rieck’s clear, simple costumes are divided into noble white and gold for Caesar and agent-like black for his murderers. It’s all just a game – a deadly serious one. Long applause.

Conclusion: An oppressively current parable about greed for power, manipulation and (self-)staging with a multi-faceted ensemble.

Until March 21st, Schauspielhaus Linz, tickets: 0732 7611-400,

www.landestheater-linz.at