Sejanus, His Fall, by Ben Jonson

Merton College Chapel, 6th - 9th June 2000

Sejanus, His Fall is one of Ben Jonson's lesser-known plays. An editor early in the last century noted, somewhat inauspiciously: "The play was damned when it was produced in 1603 …" Director Seb Perry can thus be reckoned a courageous man. He should certainly be congratulated for bringing to Oxford audiences a work very rarely seen on stage - rumour has it that this production is the first since 1928. Unfortunately, though, there does seem to be a reason why this is the case.

The tragedy recounts a tale of political intrigue at the court of Emperor Tiberius: duplicity and scheming abound. Political integrity is as rare as it is in Whitehall today. Silius' statement in the opening scene encapsulates the state of political life: "Our lookes are call'd to question, and our wordes, how innocent soever, are made crimes." Central to the intrigue is Sejanus, a dangerously ambitious favourite of Tiberius, who - predictably - experiences a calamitous fall from grace.

The problem with the play is that Jonson makes it extremely difficult to feel much sympathy, or antipathy for any of the characters. Sejanus' demise is thus met with something akin to indifference.

That said, Mr Perry does attempt bravely to evoke reaction in the audience. His characters are decked out in black and white tie; they sit magisterially upon the front benches in the Merton ante-chapel, glowering at their opponents; they hold forth in robust rhetoric, and charge on and off stage like preening peacocks. The cut-throat Roman politicians are in fact, he suggests, as sad and silly as Union hacks. This amusing reading of the play does not, however, imbue it with enough interest to last for long. The uniformly pedestrian pace of this production does not help matters, and the fact that the characters are all dressed virtually indistinguishably makes it difficult to follow the plot. Also, it would be interesting if more creative use were made of the space: virtually all exits and entrances are made to and from the body of the chapel.

There are, however, some very amusing moments (scatological references are also not in short supply). Nat Coleman is charmingly funny as Eudemus, Livia's fluttering powder-boy. Edwin Northover produces some wonderful facial expressions and intonations as Tiberius. His affectedly haughty exit on the line "When I die, let fire overcome the earth" raised ripples of laughter.

Simon Ross - after being killed as Drusus and reappearing as a senator - is particularly convincing. Jess Brooks gives a beautifully restrained cameo performance as Livia: she has a clear sense of her character's regality, but tinges it with an erotic undercurrent. I also liked Mike Lovatt's vigorous Macro.

Despite my substantial quibbles, I am glad I saw Sejanus. Mr Perry's attempt at resurrecting a fallen classic is not faultless, but is commendable in its courageousness.

Jean Meiring, 7 / 6 / 00