Editor’s Note: This column does not represent the opinion of Beaver’s Digest. This column reflects the personal opinions of the writer.
I haven’t lately been impressed with much of my summer entertainment. With the exception of Lee Isaac Chung’s “Twisters” I’ve been let down by books touted as BookTok and the New York Times’ summer-must-reads. Don’t get me started on all the Netflix originals and Hulu exclusives.
A lot of my disillusionment comes from the fact that many of the films, books and TV shows I’ve sat down to consume in the past year feel like they lack something I just can’t quite seem to put my finger on.
That is, until I laid out my picnic blanket on the Memorial Union Quad and was startled by chants of “Caesar!” marching down the sidewalk.
The 19th annual Bard in the Quad began last weekend, a tradition put on at Oregon State University that encourages all members of the community to attend with picnics in-tow. Each year, they choose one of Shakespeare’s plays, this time opting for the tragedy “Julius Caesar.” With a twist, though– this one is set in a distant future where the Roman conspirators have lightsabers.
To be honest, I arrived with my picnic blanket more excited to just be out of the house than I was for the Bard. Having gone through high school English classes, I can’t say that Shakespeare thrills me (except for the gun fights and high-speed car chases in Baz Luhrman’s “Romeo + Juliet”).
Unfortunately, the experience of Shakespeare can come across as rather dull when it’s words on a page — while that may allot the time to read and understand the spirit of a monologue about duty and honor, the witty dick jokes just don’t land like they should.
They landed at Bard in the Quad.
The actors, students like myself, had me genuinely chuckling with their side-eyes and clever puns concealed behind knowing grins.
For something that could have been so austere, the cast and crew made two hours fly by. I was entertained and, by the end, I too was calling for mutiny with the plebeians and waiting with bated breath for the iconic, “et tu, Brute?”
That being said, “Julius Caesar” is not a comedy, it’s a tragedy (spoiler alert, everyone dies at the end). There are moments that demand the gravitas of a crested general addressing men of state swathed in their Senate robes. And the Bard in the Quad crew was able to pull their goofiness into austerity when it was needed.
What truly elevated the production from amateur to epic, though, was the creative use of the space.
The actors’ stage extends across the facade of the MU. From where the sidewalks disappear into magnolia groves on either side of the grand steps and their bracketing plinths. All of this architecture is reminiscent of Rome, and provides a convincing backdrop to the goings-on of the Senate.
Brutus and Casias pull their daggers in the shadows of columns, the ghost of Caesar trails his shimmering cape up the steps. And, once night falls after intermission, green and blue lights carve this architecture into something more severe and sinister.
Of course, the Bard in the Quads’ tragedy does not take place in Rome, but in a galaxy far, far way. I don’t think the lack of togas or laurels detracted from the play, though. On the contrary, the lightsabers and futuristically regal costuming gave it a charming twist.
Besides, when the lightsabers came out after the sun had set, I’ll admit, I got shivers.
But, what I found most enjoyable, was no matter how a phrase was intoned or if a fight sequence got a little clumsy, the cast seemed to be having a great time — which made it a great time for me, at least.
Whether book, movie or TV series, when the cast and characters seem to be taking themselves too seriously, everything else can suffer. There are exceptions to this, of course, plenty of media pieces would suffer if its seriousness was called into question — but I’m not sure Shakespeare is one of those.
The jokes can get a little filthy, and, depending on what kind of English teacher you had, “Hamlet” could have been a grave story about a man’s descent into madness, or a prank that got too out of hand. “Romeo and Juliet” could be about fatal love or two lusty teenagers.
In the end though, Shakespeare needed to sell tickets, and I’d like to think that, whatever he wrote, he meant to entertain his audience. The cast and crew of Bard in the Quad seemed to have interpreted this well above all else.
The second, and final, round of shows happens this weekend (Aug. 8-11) at 7:30 p.m. Student tickets are free, and community member tickets are $17. Tickets can be bought in advance here.
