In Northern Kentucky University School of the Arts’ production of “Titus Andronicus,” audiences are immersed in violence from the moment they enter a deliberately awkward performance space.
By placing spectators on opposite sides of the action and surrounding them with floor-to-ceiling plastic sheets, director Darnell Pierre Benjamin draws the audience into Shakespeare’s darkest tragedy and confronts our fascination with watching violence up close.
As Benjamin’s program note observes, revenge tragedy was all the rage when “Titus Andronicus” premiered at London’s Rose Theatre near the end of the 16th century, and Shakespeare’s effort to outdo Thomas Kyd’s “The Spanish Tragedy” became a box-office success. In 2026, Benjamin shifts that competitive appetite for revenge into an “eye for an eye” culture shaped by social media, reality television, political campaigns, internet rage bait, and public outrage. The production asks what winning looks like in a collapsing society and makes this centuries-old play feel disturbingly current.
Benjamin has set the show in the distant future, weaving elements throughout the production to establish this “new world.” Scenic designer Taylor Helms’s deliberately sparce environment, Jeff Martell’s projections, Ronnie Chamberlain’s costumes, and Missy White’s wig, hair and makeup design create a concept that is well conceived and largely well executed. The Robert and Rosemary Stauss Theatre, a flexible black box that seats up to 150, proves especially suited to the production. Its adaptable configuration challenges the relationship between audience and actor, while plastic backdrops provide opportunities for projection and make the room feel at once clinical, industrial and threatening.
Martell’s projections set the mood, flashing everything from scenery and dripping blood to futuristic ID cards that help the audience learn the names and characteristics of the characters. Jo Sanburg’s lighting and sound design supports the shifting atmosphere, while visual devices distinguish the different factions. Chamberlain’s costumes, assisted by Catherine Myers and supported by costume shop coordinator Shelby Doyle, use striking futuristic colors and fabrics. White’s makeup contributes further to the world-building: dirty faces, unique designs, bruising and cuts communicate status and reveal the violent nature of the characters.
Red appears throughout the show as an unmistakable signal of violence. Several attempts to use blood were perhaps less effective, likely because this was still a technical rehearsal and great care was being taken to avoid staining the costumes. This is a practical reality audiences rarely consider: costumes and blood do not easily mesh. Deliberate plans must be made to prevent damage, especially when the garments are expertly made by hand, as they are in this production.
The acting reflects the varying levels of experience expected in a college production, but several performers stand out. The actor playing Tamora, Queen of the Goths, (Emily Lamping) is necessarily creepy and stately, both emotional and controlled. The actors playing her maniacal sons, Demetrius and Chiron are equally effective, heightening the creep factor while adding a modern, relatable quality to their performances. Kudos to Caleb Lindsey and Sierra Conner, respectively.
In the titular role, Wolf Singer playing Titus brings the audience along on his journey from revered, aging Roman general to revenge-seeking madman.
His facial expressions in the climactic final scene are both comical and unhinged in the best way. Faith Akers as Lavinia also adapts impressively to her character’s devastating experience and physical trauma. It is difficult enough to act with full physical freedom, let alone while portraying someone deprived of it. Her performance requires a high level of trust in her scene partners, who help her stand, sit and descend stairs.
The outright heaviness of the material is one of the production’s greatest challenges. Benjamin’s direction is supported by fight choreographer Gina Cerimele-Mechley, intimacy director Corrie Danieley, stage manager Ellis Clay, and assistant stage managers Emma Price and Marisa Carlson — an especially important team for material involving assault, mutilation, and sustained physical violence
The final climax is particularly complex, requiring the ensemble to balance a great deal emotionally and physically. Some kinks were still being worked out, but the essential elements were in place, and great care was being taken to execute the sequence correctly and safely. That attention reflects Benjamin’s unique challenge as both director and educator: he must consistently balance patience with strong leadership.
It can be difficult to engage local audiences with Shakespeare, a reality Benjamin knows well from his years collaborating with Cincinnati Shakespeare Company. As a college production, “Titus Andronicus” may prove challenging to market, yet he chose the show deliberately and with full awareness of the obstacles. His attempt to bring Shakespeare to the masses is admirable. Despite the play’s limited regional popularity and heady, complex content, he embraces its capacity to provoke deeper thought and conversation among students and audiences.
NKU’s Titus Andronicus does not soften the darkness of Shakespeare’s tragedy. Instead, it uses an intimate setting, a vivid futuristic world, and committed young performers to ask why violence continues to fascinate us. By pulling the audience into the action, Benjamin and his company turn an ancient cycle of vengeance into an unsettling reflection of our own culture and remind us that, even in the darkest stories, art can create space for trust, laughter, and conversation.
The play runs from Oct. 23 through Nov. 1. Click here to learn more.
