Since I uncouthly searched Titus Andronicus online before we watched it, I went into the production knowing that around seven people had fainted at one point. Admittedly, I was intrigued. Was it really that graphic?
The answer: it was. It truly was.
Immediately post-performance, I was not as innerved or drained as everyone else. This sort of worried me in an oh-maybe-I’m-a-sociopath type way, until I remembered that I come from a family that used to watch CSI: Miami over our Sunday spaghetti; my gore meter isn’t as finely attuned as other people’s can be.
Post-performance, the splatter ignited quite the chatter—but what was it that made this blood so disturbing? Sadly, it’s a safe bet to say that everyone in the group and even the larger audience has seen a fictitious character get killed bloodily, whether on film or television. Anyone who’s seen anything from Quentin Tarantino or the Saw franchise would say that the amount of blood in Titus is at best tangential. However, a great explanation can be found in the production’s program: since the play’s action takes place under natural light outside in realistic physical conditions, seeing blood is more visceral because it is all the more tangible.
It’s surreal to think that Romans actually witnessed the outlandish violence depicted in Titus. Gladiatorial contests and frequent wars were the norms of the day; it’s easy to think of such things as barbarous until modern violence is also examined. UFC contests, for example, are a modern day equivalent to gladiators. War is always occurring, everyday, in some part of the world. Oddly enough, the proliferation of technology makes it easier to both document and distract ourselves from these wars. Shakespeare obviously didn’t have access to this technology, but Titus Andronicus, his ode to pacifism, lives on.