When the rhetoric of “national sickness” and “diseased” societies begins to permeate modern political discourse, the distance between 1941 and the present day seems to collapse. This uncanny resonance is the driving force behind the Royal Shakespeare Company’s latest production, The Resistible Rise of Arturo Ui RSC, a brutal satire by Bertolt Brecht that transforms the ascent of a dictator into a dark, comic nightmare.
Starring Mark Gatiss as the titular gangster, the production serves as a stark reminder of how easily authoritarianism can be packaged as a solution to crisis. Gatiss, widely recognized for his roles in Sherlock and The League of Gentlemen, views the play not as a dusty relic of the mid-century, but as a living warning. “It’s the same rhetoric,” Gatiss says. “You just give it 80 years. The second world war generation has died out, so it’s fertile ground again. The same bullshit works. It’s really frightening.”
The RSC has moved with unusual speed to bring the play to the stage, driven by a sense of urgency regarding the current global political climate. For the creative team, the play’s prescience was too acute to ignore. “We said: ‘We should be doing it tomorrow, shouldn’t we?’” Gatiss explains. “It was a warning from history. Now it’s the bloody muse.”
A Sonic Landscape of Violence
In a bold creative pivot, the production features an original score by the alt-rock band Placebo. This marks the theatrical debut for vocalist Brian Molko and bassist Stefan Olsdal, who have crafted a brooding, abrasive soundscape designed to mirror the script’s inherent brutality. Rather than providing a traditional accompaniment, the music is intended to represent different manifestations of violence.
“It suits our politics perfectly,” Molko says, noting the rise of demagogues who operate with a perceived lack of respect for international law. The band’s approach was intuitive and visceral, which Molko describes as “like being in a dark room and feeling your way around.” Working with musical director Alex Lee—known for his operate with Massive Attack and Goldfrapp—the team has assembled a live band to perform every night, ensuring the atmosphere remains immediate and raw.
The compositions vary from short, sharp shocks of less than 30 seconds to longer, “rock’n’roll” set-pieces. Gatiss describes some of the rehearsed pieces as sounding like “casual murder,” a sonic choice that reinforces the play’s exploration of how violence becomes normalized within a fascist regime.
The Art of the Strongman
Brecht’s 1941 satire uses a deliberate allegory: the rise of Arturo Ui, a Chicago gangster who seizes control of the cauliflower market through protection rackets and intimidation, mirroring the tactics used by the Nazi party. In this production, director Seán Linnen is leaning into the “carnival atmosphere” of the play, experimenting with absurd substitutions—replacing guns with fish, vegetables and baguettes—to highlight the ridiculousness of the facade before the underlying violence “sucker-punches you with the truth.”
For Gatiss, the role is an opportunity to explore the performative nature of power. The play depicts Ui learning how to stand, move, and speak to demand obedience, including the recitation of a speech from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Gatiss notes that this mirrors the historical reality of Adolf Hitler, who studied acting to refine his public persona. “He went to see an actor. Most politicians do at some stage, to talk about voice and posture and rhetoric,” Gatiss says.
This focus on the “performance” of leadership extends to modern observations. Gatiss recalls the emergence of the “power stance” among some political leaders—standing with legs unnaturally far apart to project dominance. “It’s about trying to convince people,” he says. “When done well, it works.”
Deconstructing the Brechtian Myth
Although Brecht is often treated as a sacrosanct figure in theatrical history, the RSC production intentionally avoids a dry, didactic approach. Gatiss has recently been influenced by the biography written by John Fuegi, which challenges the traditional narrative of Brecht as a sole genius, suggesting instead that he was a “brand name” who collaborated extensively with women and others while taking the majority of the credit.
By stripping away the “gatekeeping” and the idea of the text as “holy writ,” the production team has found a new sense of freedom. This openness allowed Placebo to work without strict rules, incorporating energies reminiscent of their own tracks like “The Bitter Complete” and “Pure Morning” into the score.
“We believe we learn from history, but history shows us that we don’t.”
The production’s proximity to real-world tension is further heightened by its location. The Royal Shakespeare Company is based in Warwickshire, an area where political shifts toward parties like Reform UK are evident. Gatiss acknowledges the risk of “preaching to the choir” but insists that the play is a necessary act of defiance born from a feeling of helplessness.
Production Summary
| Role/Contributor | Entity |
|---|---|
| Lead Actor (Arturo Ui) | Mark Gatiss |
| Original Music | Placebo |
| Director | Seán Linnen |
| Translator | Stephen Sharkey |
| Venue | Swan Theatre, Stratford-upon-Avon |
| Run Dates | April 11 to May 30 |
The demonstrate concludes with an epilogue that calls on the audience to actively resist the rise of fascism. For Gatiss, this is the most vital part of the experience, designed to provoke a reaction that extends beyond the theater walls. “I’m not suggesting someone’s going to walk in and tear up their Britain First membership in front of us,” he says, “but you have to do something. Go down swinging, at least.”
The production is scheduled to run at the Swan Theatre through May 30, providing a window for audiences to engage with Brecht’s warning in a modern, amplified context.
Do you believe the arts can effectively serve as a deterrent to political extremism? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
