In the mid 1990s, Jason Byrne distinguished himself as a director of stripped-down, lucid and gripping Shakespeare with his independent company Loose Canon. He now makes a shaky transition to the Abbey's main stage with a production filled with beautiful images and some fine speaking, but lacking a compelling reading of the play. He and designers Jon Bausor and Paul Keogan treat the playing space as a canvas, with each new scene an opportunity for another exquisite stage picture: the conspirators caught in angular light on a bare stage framed by looming white marble walls; Aidan Kelly's Mark Antony bathed in a golden glow atop a plinth.
The time period is broadly ancient Rome, with some updated touches: the actors wear modified togas, but Brutus brings a Victrola to the battle camp. Exactly what Byrne is trying to say about political intrigue then and now, however, is never really clear. While in excellent voice, Declan Conlon's brooding Brutus is so self-contained that we never really understand what sets him apart; Frank McCusker's intensity as Cassius is often compelling, but attempts to sexualise the character's behaviour (particularly an overplayed moment of him humping Caesar's dying body) do not convince.
Self-conscious stylisation is also apparent in the choreographed movement and unison-speaking of the large chorus, which is technically impressive but gives no sense of threat or rabble. This emphasis on formalism contrasts jarringly with Kelly's excellent but colloquial-sounding reading of Antony's funeral oration. The production's fractured quality exacerbates the scattered feeling of the play's final scenes.
The Abbey stage increasingly feels like an untamable beast to the current generation of Irish directors.
· Until March 17. Box office: (353) 1 878 7222.
