Albert Camus finished his first draft of Caligula in 1938, when he was just 25—”the age when one doubts everything except oneself,” as he later put it. The tragedy’s central character is a young man of about the same age who nevertheless doubts nothing: Caligula, the sister-shtupping, friend-killing, self-deifying Roman emperor whose brief, autocratic reign (AD 37-41) stands out for its capriciousness and cruelty. Prefiguring the dictators of Camus’s own time, Caligula criminalized dissent, gouged the citizenry to pay for extravagant construction projects, and had former supporters put to death. Little wonder that he was soon assassinated by a band of conspirators.
The weak point in Gelman’s production—and it’s ultimately fatal to the show—is Colin Jackson’s performance as Caligula. Inasmuch as the role represents a slow-motion suicide, the challenge is to avoid making Caligula seem mad as a hatter or in a perpetual funk. Jackson oscillates between these two registers, capering merrily during manic episodes and seeming blank and benumbed during the serious stuff. He gives us nothing to be frightened of.
In contrast to Caligula, Gelman’s casting here is impeccable. Josh Anderson’s AA is both genial and smug, and seems perfectly calibrated to push all the buttons of Joel Huff’s excitable XX. As much credit as Anderson deserves for enlivening a static character, it’s Huff who walks away with the whole thing. Sporting a cheap suit, greasy mustache, and socks that are more hole than fabric, he delivers a riveting, volatile performance, conveying the humor, pathos, and menace lurking in a man written off as a boor and buffoon.
Through 7/7, Wed-Fri 8 PM, Sat-Sun 3 and 8 PM (rotating productions; check with theater for schedule)
Greenhouse Theater Center
312-634-0199
organictheater.info
$19
