The most notable thing about this production of Shakespeare's Julius Caesar is the most obvious one. Caesar is played by a young woman (Vilma Silva). For theatergoers who didn't catch this gender change prior to the show, Silva announces the fact in the show's prelude. The prelude also includes a warm-up cheering routine for the audience (when the name "Caesar" is announced). Director Amanda Dehnert earns points for her reverse-gender casting and for engaging the audience in an interactive exercise.
How does Julius Caesar, Rome's mightiest general, come across as a different sex? Vilma Silva, a slim, delicate woman, certainly doesn't match one's notion of Caesar, female or otherwise. She is, however, a presence in every sense of the word. This is emphasized in a variety of effecting lighting techniques that underscore the play's intent.
The most climactic scene, of course, is when Caesar dies at the hands of conspiring senators. It seems as though Silva's delicate form is all the more vulnerable as her attackers surround her. Her expressive "Et tu, Brutus?" is delivered with a tone of resignation in her voice.
Caesar, who wears a pure white, long-hemmed garment, is quickly drenched in blood as the attackers unsheathe their knives. Director Dehnert ensures that this dramatic scene has its full effect on the audience.
Upon hearing of Caesar's death, an overwrought Mark Anthony (Danforth Comins) is stunned but not overwhelmed as he sees Caesar's body. Anthony checks his emotions as he strikes a bargain with the conspirators. He asks only for permission to give a eulogy at Caesar's funeral. They agree. The body of Caesar (in this case, only his bloody garment) is set before the people on a makeshift altar.
Anthony's monologue, which begin with the familiar, "friends, Romans and countrymen," is incredibly effective in a way the conspirators had not anticipated. Anthony succeeds in inciting the crowd's rage against Caesar's murderers. Comins does a terrific job of pacing his voice and gestures to the rising tide of anger among the Romans. He even produces Caesar's generous "will," which he quickly burns after the crowd has dispersed. The reverse-gender casting continues throughout the play. Although Brutus' wife, Portia, is played by a woman (Gina Daniels), several other women serve as "male" senators. This all seems to work with the exception of Caius Ligarius, an ancient Roman soldier. The role is played by a young Asian woman (Ako). For this reviewer, who has seen many plays with non-traditional casting, this stretches the imagination a bit too far. At least the character of Caius plays a minor role in this epic staging of one of Shakespeare's greatest plays. Among the rest of the cast, Jonathan Haugen is a stocky, stalwart, no-nonsense Brutus. He is not easily recruited to the group of conspirators. Haugen shows the many sides of Brutus, from the loving husband to the valiant warrior. Although Brutus secretly longs to replace Caesar, he is initially unsure of the conspirators' hasty plan. As Cassius, one of the senators, Gregory Linington cuts an impressive figure throughout the play. Young, passionate and ambitious, he is persuasive in feeding Brutus' ego. Although Caesar dies, "she" doesn't disappear. She becomes Caesar's ghost, silently moving around the stage's perimeter to observe the action. She is expressionless. Occasionally, she sits for awhile near the audience. Her presence is a visible reminder of why this war is happening. This production's strong cast, effective staging, innovative sound and light effects make it the best of the half-dozen shows seen by this reviewer during a long weekend at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It isn't meant to be a traditional telling of Julius Caesar, but it certainly expands one's understanding of how the mighty are destined to fall. 
