Writer-director Simon Stone's new version of The Oresteia is based on the first two plays of Aeschylus' trilogy. Agamemnon/Christopher is recast as part of the military-industrial complex, while the House of Atreus becomes the House of Middleton. In this contemporary reimagining, Christopher's daughter Iphigenia/Isabel is no longer sacrificed to the gods but driven to her death in protest against her father's role in what she sees as the war machine. However, the major challenge in recreating a Greek tragedy in the way Stone attempts is to capture the sense of the curse, the epic inevitability of what happens. The classical concept of fate is largely foreign to a contemporary audience, which tends to interpret human behaviour through the lens of psychology and individual responsibility rather than as the working out of an external, inexorable force. Yet it is precisely that force which elevates these stories into tragedy rather than simply domestic drama. The question, then, is whether we would care as much about this story if it were not called The Oresteia. Bereft of that larger sense of destiny, the fall of the House of Middleton is closer to Tarantino than Aeschylus: a spectacle of gore and absurdity rather than the inexorable unfolding of tragic design. That is not to say the production lacks strengths. Stone has a sharp ear for savage comedy, and the Middleton family's vicious infighting frequently recalls Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? The performances are outstanding. Mary-Louise Parker is a commanding Montie/Clytemnestra, combining corrosive wit with barely suppressed rage and making every entrance bristle with menace. Tom Glynn-Carney is sensational as Augie/Orestes, charting his descent into violence with a thrilling mix of volatility, vulnerability and barely controlled mania. Together they provide the emotional and dramatic engine of the evening. One of the production's greatest achievements is its revolving residence, an ingenious set that keeps the action in constant motion while allowing us to peer into the family's private world from constantly shifting perspectives. By contrast, the decision to place a transparent plastic barrier between the actors and the audience, perhaps to suggest the characters' emotional isolation, too often muffles the dialogue and blunts the force of the performances. Stone's adaptation is inventive and superbly acted, but it never quite overcomes the central problem of modernising Greek tragedy. The curse of the House of Atreus is not simply a plot device. It is the force that transforms private acts of violence into a tragedy of mythic proportions. Remove that, and what remains is an engrossing, blood-soaked family drama. The evening is often gripping, but it is no longer, in the fullest sense, The Oresteia.
Rated: ★★★
Reviewed by J.C.
Photo by Johan Persson
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