When we get to the funeral orations, I’m struck by the differences in our four leading men. Every actor’s process is different, but we could not have chosen four more disparate techniques.

Colm Feore (Cassius) is squarely in the classical mode. His mantra is the text, the text, the text. He reads swiftly and decisively in long arcs of thought. His diction could cut glass. You can hear the alternating soft and strong stresses of the pentameter as he makes his arguments. He acts on the line, pausing only when absolutely necessary. His choices are made from clues in the script. At the end of Act One he points up the sibilance of:

“And after this, let Caesar seat him sure,

For we will shake him, or worse days endure.”

If there is a weakness in this emphasis on the text, it is that he sometimes seems to be playing toward conclusions he has made in his private study, rather than responding in the moment and searching for the truth in the rehearsal room.

Denzel Washington’s (Brutus) motto is “Be honest”. He literally repeats this to himself as he prepares his work. “Be honest. Be honest.” He works with the text and through it, but his choices are made very slowly, and not until they arise organically from the situation. He is not nearly as experienced with Shakespeare as Colm, and his verse speaking, at this point, lacks the ease and fluidity which marks the great classical performers. This contrast between the leading men makes for interesting rehearsals—as Colm acts full out and off book opposite Denzel, who has his nose buried in his script and is barely audible as he investigates the scene. Watching this, I realize my process is closer to Colm’s, which makes me admire Denzel even more. It takes courage to go slowly.

Bill Sadler (Caesar) is also rigorous about finding the truth of the scene, but his process is bolder. He seems unafraid to make audacious choices, and equally unafraid to abandon them if they fall flat. He has the ability to make the language sound new minted, as if he is coining the famous phrases at that very moment, but he does not evince any formal training in this regard. He is very much “in the moment”.  He seems to have a tremendous appetite for the work, and relishes rehearsal. To me, he proves that an actor who normally works on modern material can, nevertheless, bring tremendous vitality to classical text.

Eammon Walker (Marc Antony) is an enigma to me. British, with a strong cockney accent, he seems to have had little experience with Shakespearean text. His instincts tend to be emotional and highly theatrical, in spite of the fact that he has performed extensively on television. He whispers, hisses, shouts and glares. At this point it is difficult to believe that the crowd would find Antony’s speech over Caesar’s body more honest and compelling than Brutus’ oration.

Also, at this point, the text is very difficult to understand. Operative words are swallowed and modifiers are stressed. This, of course, was true in the early stages of some of the greatest performances of all time. Marlon Brando was inaudible as he rehearsed to play Stanley Kowalski, and Lee J. Cobb famously mumbled his way through rehearsals for Death of a Salesman. Dan Sullivan is a wizard at casting, and rarely errs in this regard. It will be fascinating to watch this performance develop.