Orson Welles and After

“On 6 November 1937, at his fledging Mercury Theatre, Orson Welles dragged [Julius] Caesar with traumatic abruptness into the twentieth century, accompanied by a degree of controversy unknown in its history.” So John Ripley writes in his otherwise sober “Julius Caesar” on Stage. ¹ The somewhat overheated tone is worthy of Welles himself, but Ripley’s assessment is not far off the mark. Few productions of a Shakespeare play have aroused as much interest, and have been as well remembered, as the so-called “Fascist” Julius Caesar. Set on “a bare stage, the brick walls of which are crimson and naked,” ² emphasizing to the full the sculptural as well as melodramatic possibilities of lighting, and employing carefully choreographed crowd movement, the production was seen as “pure theatre; vibrant, unashamed and enormously effective.” ³ Although best remembered for its “Fascist” accouterments—modern military uniforms, straight-armed salutes, “Nuremberg” lighting—Welles’s Caesar was at least as notable for the speed and simplicity of its staging, which brought to mind the “format of a radio or film script with episodes fading one into another, punctuated only by light, darkness, and sound effects.” ⁴