★★★

I have some reservations about this production of Coriolanus but there’s one thing I have no doubt about- the performance  David Oyelowo in the title role. He has been rarely seen on stage in the last twenty years, thanks to the lure of Hollywood.  So it is genuinely exciting to welcome him back. I am pleased to report he does not disappoint.

He is a Roman soldier, but more than that he is a weapon, created by Rome’s military culture and specifically by his mother (the only human being he seems to care about). At the beginning, he establishes his military credentials in warfare. After that, it’s all about Rome trying to control this missile they have launched.

Actual physical fighting takes up a small but, in this production, memorable part of the play. Mostly we watch people talking about Coriolanus, trying to persuade him to be what he can’t be, which is to say someone who bites his tongue, compromises and flatters, and fatally underestimating him.

When he returns to Rome a hero, he seems an obvious candidate for a peacetime leader. The trouble is, he can’t hide his feelings of contempt for people and politics. Rome turns against him, then finds the missile pointed at them.

Coriolanus is up against the two great forces of Rome at that time, the plebeians and the patricians, and Shakespeare appears to have little time for either.  The former are a rabble who are easily swayed, the latter are self-serving: ‘the herdsmen of the beastly plebeians’.

On the face of it, Coriolanus is a simple soldier, a man of principle who refuses to play the political game and seeks revenge when betrayed. As in any tragedy, his actions lead to his downfall but we are uncertain whether they are a symptom of arrogance, pride, humility, or simply a soldier’s rigid ideas of right and wrong? Lindsey Turner’s production doesn’t discount or endorse any of these possibilities, leaving us to notice what seems like a form of autism in his inability to empathise and his black-and-white view of the world.

David Oyelowo provides us with a Coriolanus full of power and subtle feelings. He is undoubtedly a man of action. No-one in a Shakespeare play can be said to be a man of few words, and certainly Coriolanus has a few choice poetic metaphors to bestow on those who let him down. Still, by the Bard’s standards, he is positively tight-lipped. Mr Oyelowo speaks the poetry clearly and fluently but it’s through his face and body that he most  expresses his puzzlement and anger at what he encounters.

From the start, Mr Oyelowo conveys nobility- but he is a soldier first. He says, ‘Let me have war, say I: it exceeds peace as far as day does night.’ He has a soldier’s bearing and bluntness.  He bares his ripped body more than once, which contributes to the sense that he is very much an alpha male in a world of betas.   In Rome during peacetime, he walks and sits awkwardly. He only seems comfortable when fighting. And the sword fight scenes are pretty exciting, as choreographed by Sam Lyon-Behan.

Whenever he leaves the stage, the temperature drops. None of the other characters emerge with much credit or force, although the actors do. Peter Forbes as Menenius, the wily politician trying to pour oil on troubled waters, is suitably patrician. Stephanie Street and Jordan Metcalfe as the devious populist tribunes Sicinius and Brutus are appropriately slimy. Kobna Holdbrook-Smith as Aufidius is also a successful soldier but, in contrast to his sworn enemy Coriolanus, he can play the political game. Pamela Novete as Coriolanus’s domineering mother has the right hectoring tone and, judging by the way she influences him into his fateful decisions, gives us another major clue to Coriolanus’s character. He respects, even fears her, but there’s no hint of love between them.

Lindsey Turner’s production brings out the contrast between the soldiers, who built and protect Rome, and the inhabitants who take for granted the benefits of peace that the army’s feats bring them. The production begins with a video projection, designed by Ash J Woodward, where people are shown from high above scuttling around like ants.

Es Devlin provides an impressive set that continues this theme. It dominates the production and the people- maybe a little too much. The story may speak about war and democracy, heroes and the populace but it is told on a human scale. The huge set distracts from the humanity. On the other hand, when those massive marble blocks descend to create a feeling of the power and history of Rome, we get the sense that the current Romans, both the elite and the people, are like the ants we saw earlier.

There are many artefacts on tables which suggest a museum, perhaps indicating the past was once the present, that this story will soon be history, and that history constantly repeats itself. After all, we can see many examples today of populism and political ambition threatening democracy, and of people who would rather fight than compromise. This is underlined by the way the actors are in modern dress. There is a moment at the end that indicates fighters like Coriolanus will always be needed and always remembered.

Conflict is the stuff of drama and this production should be more riveting but without any major characters bigged up enough to test him (except maybe his mother) and few big poetic speeches, it’s very much Coriolanus versus the rest, and he’s a one trick pony, a single-minded soldier with no inner conflict.