The Bard by way of "Deadwood"

Hail Rome! And howdy pardner! The saga of that ol' warrior Titus Andronicus is about to begin in a Wild West town where the men wear 10-gallon hats, brandish six-shooters and put the flesh of their enemies in the grub.

Plenty of Shakespeare plays have been turned into cowboy sagas by modern directors. And in the case of Balagan Theatre's new production of "Titus Andronicus," that time shift ain't a bad idea.

Brawls, blood feuds and other bloody nastiness befit both ancient Rome and some lawless outposts of 19th-century America. In Balagan's rugged, semi-clunky staging of this grisly historical melodrama (featuring 14 murders, half a dozen disfigurements and one act of cannibalism), director Beth Peterson draws our attention to her Old West motif repeatedly and energetically.

To the tinny sounds of barroom piano and front-porch mandolin, the big uneven cast plows through the high-low points of this compressed version of the Bard's text with gusto — if variable finesse.

Theater review


"Titus Andronicus," Thursdays-Sundays through Feb. 3, Balagan Theatre at Capitol Hill Arts Center, 1621 12th Ave., Seattle; $9-$15 (800-838-3006 or www.brownpapertickets.com).

Darting around the cramped environs of Capitol Hill Arts Center's basement theater space, the actors do much more shouting than necessary (the audience is inches away, people). And some overact with a vengeance.

The main culprit is Lyam White as the besieged Titus. White's bellowing gets louder each time some new horror is visited upon Titus and his kin.

Another offender: lanky, mustachioed Curtis Eastwood. But he gets a pass, because his portrayal of the gullible emperor Saturninus is so obnoxious and over-the-top, it's as if Borat has invaded ancient Italy.

A more calibrated turn by Juniper Berolzheimer as that cagey villainess, Tamora, Queen of the Goths, is refreshing. The folksy musical contributions by Sean Patrick Taylor are apt.

There are a lot of eye-rolling moments in this "Titus." But, hey, the play is in part the Elizabethan equivalent of a slasher movie. And Balagan's version is plenty bloody, but rarely a bore.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com