HIS ANTONY IS LOOKING A BIT NORTH

When Gregory Mortensen began preparing for the Marc Antony role in Grove Shakespeare Festival’s “Julius Caesar,” he went to classical historian Plutarch for the germ of authenticity and past performances by such actors as Marlon Brando and Sir Laurence Olivier for inspiration.

And for a contemporary thrust, he looked no further than Lt. Col. Oliver North, who has captured the nation’s attention with his testimony before Congress about his involvement in the Iran- contra affair.

“Exactly,” Mortensen says with a smile when asked if Antony, in some ways, is the Ollie North of the Caesar Administration. “There are definite similarities . . . Antony is the devoted servant, like North. (Antony) is political and ambitious, which I think North probably is . . . and both have some braggadocio in their personalities.”

Mortensen, a veteran Broadway actor who is in his second season at the Grove, does not like to stretch the point, but it’s obvious that the current political intrigue in Washington enthralls him. The hearings, particularly North’s role, surfaced throughout an hourlong interview, and it’s clear that Mortensen sees the Iran-contra affair as a fitting backdrop for “Julius Caesar” (which continues through July 18 at the Festival Amphitheatre in Garden Grove).

“Of course, it’s allegorical,” said the blond, bearded Mortensen, 31. “What Shakespeare is saying--basically that power corrupts--can be (related) to what’s going on now. Times have changed, but events remain the same; the pursuit of power comes with a price. . . . North is finding that out.”

Mortensen, who lives in Hollywood, is no newcomer to the Bard. His Broadway break, in fact, came in 1982 when he was picked to play Angus in Nicol Williamson’s “Macbeth.” Besides appearing as Prince Hal in last year’s Grove production of “Henry IV (Part 1),” Mortensen has performed in “Comedy of Errors,” “As You Like It” and “Hamlet” at the prestigious Berkeley Shakespeare Festival.

As in those plays, it is the universality of Shakespeare’s themes that Mortensen finds compelling in “Julius Caesar.” The lessons of destructive ambition are found in the deaths of Brutus and Cassius, whose conspiracy to kill Caesar and democratize Rome ended in battle with Antony and Octavius, the future emperor. Antony’s own downfall in Shakespeare’s “Antony and Cleopatra,” really the sequel to “Julius Caesar,” underscores those lessons.

But in “Julius Caesar,” Antony assumes the heroic mantle as he avenges his mentor’s murder. Still, Mortensen said, hints of Antony’s weaknesses, which presage his ultimate failure, are in “Julius Caesar.” They are never illuminated more subtly than in Antony’s famous soliloquy at Caesar’s funeral that begins with the oft-quoted “friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears.”

“That really says it all,” Mortensen said. “Antony’s strengths, which are his loyalty and passion, are there, but so is his ambition, which really (gains) momentum with Caesar’s death. He sees the death as a great opportunity to get ahead, and he grabs that opportunity.”

In Mortensen’s Grove interpretation, Antony is not so much a beguiling orator who uses clever irony to turn the crowd against the murder, but an incendiary speaker who demands that the people share his outrage. Mortensen, unlike, say, Brando, who almost whispered the opening lines in the 1953 film, shouts the passage’s tone-setting introduction.

Much of his characterzation was prompted by his study of Plutarch, the ancient Greek historian who chronicled the Roman empire. Plutarch’s writings often focused on Antony, who was described as a rather emotional figure, a patrician with a wide populist streak and something of an eccentric, Mortensen said.

“Plutarch said he was extremely charismatic with a brilliant speaking style. He was a legendary drinker given to excess. Plutarch even described what he wore; lion skins and other (unusual) outfits . . . he was not always a typical man of the times.”

Mortensen’s handling of Antony, which is direct and dramatic, seems appropriate for director Jules Aaron’s staging. Aaron has mounted a traditional and viscerally stimulating production that is also very graphic. Caesar’s death, for example, is a bloody massacre, as is Cassius’ own throat-slitting by one of his aides. At a recent performance, the audience’s moans marked these scenes.

But Mortensen argues that the production is not extreme. The tragedy needs stark realism to emphasize the brutality of the times, he said, adding that he may have made it even more violent if he were the director.

“I’m not sure exactly how, but I think there would have been more swordplay, I kind of miss that,” Mortensen said with a laugh. “But really, I think Jules did the right things. I’m up for the shock value if it is true to the script.”

He does, however, draw the line at overconceptualizing Shakespeare. Mortensen mentioned a production he had heard of that set “Julius Caesar” in the Nicaraguan jungle and dressed the cast in guerrilla garb to make a contemporary political point.

“It’s an uphill battle when you conceptualize too much, I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it, but it’s risky. Personally, I don’t think you should give the audience the extra burden of a director’s conceit. Shakespeare’s language is so beautiful (and such staging) can diffuse the language’s power.

“I don’t think you have to treat his plays as museum pieces, but you have to be careful when you approach them.”

It’s that greatness that demands respect while presenting unique opportunities for an actor that keeps Mortensen entranced.

“I’m always coming back to Shakespeare because, as theater, it is so pure,” he said. “That can be ideal for an actor, sort of the top reaches of his profession. . . . It’s really what the theater is all about.”