Petty Men – Arcola Theatre, London

Writers: John Chisham, Júlia Levai and Adam Goodbody

Director: Júlia Levai

 Buzz Studio’s Petty Men is a new drama written and performed by John Chisham and Adam Goodbody with Júlia Levai, who directs.  It all takes place in a dressing room during a production of Julius Caesar. Two actors, understudies for Cassius and Brutus, while away the evening, hoping and fearing that on this occasion (it’s the 100th performance) they might be called upon to act. It’s an ambitious idea for a drama, and for moments throughout the show, it comes off.

Understudy Cassius, played by Adam Goodbody, is seriously committed to his role. He earnestly massages his face while performing vocal exercises, following the lead of the cast heard warming up on stage. Understudy Brutus (John Chisham), on the other hand, is defiantly nonchalant, mucking around with a tennis ball, fiddling with the microwave and, from time to time, rattling off his lines without any attempt to act them. The contrast between the two here works really well as a starting point.

The set and sound design by Tomás Palmer and Tingying Dong are good, creating bursts of offstage sounds – supposedly the live relay of the performance, words and sounds solemnly spelled out on a screen. The overall device of having Julius Caesar playing in the background allows this 80-minute show to offer a compact narration of the play’s outlines.

When the actors want to interact with one another, they mute the relay. Alone, they run lines – a good joke being that Brutus only has to mention a line by number and swot Cassius instantly recalls his words. He is forever trying to get Brutus to take their impromptu rehearsal seriously, and there’s a strong expectation that when he does, we’ll see a dramatic change. The disappointment is that Chisham keeps his character under wraps, never approaching a dramatic exploration of Brutus’s compelling character. He’s good at comic repartee, but his actorly delivery tends to be flat. Brutus’s funeral oration, in particular, deserves to be played heroically.

Equally flat is some contrived stuff about Brutus talking to his pot plant, which somehow will feature in their rehearsal of the orchard scene. Having said that, there are some effective twists and turns, and the scene in which the two actors turn on each other is genuinely powerful. They dare one another to imagine how far they’d go to get on stage – would either of them really commit murder to play the part they’ve rehearsed for so long? Flickering and later full-on strobe lighting signals that we’re moving into surreal territory.

The show loses momentum when it most needs it. Playful clashes of register – Cassius’ word perfect Shakespeare versus Brutus’ lapses into demotic – have been funny. But some awkward shifts of tone towards the end are not. The ending itself more or less works, the actors then breaking into one of those cheesy jigs so beloved by the Globe.

Runs until 20 December 2025