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Review: The Oresteia

The biggest problem I had with DEM Productions’ Oresteia was the patronising tone of the adaptation. Both those wanting to enjoy an evening of theatre and Classicists wishing to see a slightly abridged version of ancient Greek tragedy’s only surviving trilogy will be sorely disappointed. What we have instead is the Orestes myth – according to director/adaptor/actor Ramin Sabi anyway – the way Aeschylus should have written it, or perhaps the only way we can understand it.

The choruses of the trilogy (elders in Agamemnon, women in Libation Bearers and Furies in the Eumenides) are conflated into a non-specific body whose primary function seems to be to spell out anything that might have a whiff of subtlety; ‘Agamemnon’s body was just like this’ one chorus member tells us as Clytemnestra’s corpse is revealed, ‘people could make their own decisions’ posits another in response to the idea of divine determination. The chorus also contributes to the play’s most irritating quality – its laboured and unnecessary metatheatricality. We are told we are watching a play in the opening lines, one chorus member demands to play Helen of Troy, who does not feature in Aeschylus’ trilogy, at another point someone objects: ‘No, that’s Euripides’ version!’. By the time Clytemnestra announced ‘I was playing a part’ my heart was sinking slightly, with less than a third of the production gone.

Sabi’s radical rewriting of the plays is not merely a question of time restraints (there are multiple scenes not taken from the originals, including an onstage sacrifice of Iphigeneia). The adaptation is conceived as ‘mov[ing] subtly away from a classical preoccupation and foreground[ing] the distinctly human aspects that underlie the elevated status of tragic royalty’. While what a classical preoccupation might be and why it is directly opposed to the ‘human’ is still puzzling, what this focus seems to amount to in Sabi’s Oresteia is a degradation of the trilogy to the level of soap opera. Clytemnestra’s character suffers most in this: any interest in her previously powerful character is destroyed by the revelation that she is just a woman in love (‘You showed me care and compassion, he never did’, ‘I thought you loved me, Aegisthus. I love you, love you’). Just after his matricide, Orestes turns to his accomplice sister and says glibly ‘Thanks, Electra, I couldn’t have done it without you’ – a line certain to raise a snigger from any audience. Any sense of tragic dignity is repeatedly undercut and this is not always deliberate – Orestes’ onstage breakdown (the onset of the Furies) came across as designed to be alarming and provocative, but was almost embarrassing to watch.

What saves the production in parts is the admirable efforts of the cast – acting is generally strong and the ensemble nature of the piece dealt with well. The Furies (Hannah Gliksten, Isabella Wilson and Lauren Stephens) are very impressive in their physicality, with Gliksten standing out elsewhere in choral sections and as Electra. Abigail Rees (Clytemnestra) also has moments of real strength – it felt like the script was doing her a real disservice in diminishing Clytemnestra’s role. Bobby Leigh-Pemberton (Agamemnon) and Olivia Barber (Chorus Leader) also worked well with the lines they had, although Barber’s part in particular was quite two dimensional and predictable.

This Oresteia, then, is a somewhat frustrating affair for any theatregoer – Sabi has made a fundamental error in underestimating his audience; the chorus leader quips that even a five year old should know the story of Troy, yet this is the level at which we are spoken to throughout. Motivations are crystallised at every point, our responses directed and our attention drawn to the obvious. This is Aeschylus minus the Aeschylus or The Oresteia ‘according to sparknotes and not even the efforts of a good cast can save it.

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