To view and review MB Productions’ The Bacchae in the context of student theatre is in many ways unfair. It may be performed and created by a group of Oxford students, and first ‘staged’ in Port Meadow in the summer, but in every other way is a professional enterprise. The play has travelled from Cambridge to California, where a Classics professor commented on its “tremendously challenging script to which only an extraordinary company can rise.” High praise indeed.

And it did not disappoint. Despite revisiting the production for the first time since September, the cast retained the slick sharpness which makes the action so compelling. Euripides’ play is traditionally difficult to stage, in attempting to convey the scale of a story that sees Bacchic hordes rampaging through the countryside. Instead of size, director Asia Osbourne instead focuses on intensity, as the six person cast address and enclose the audience. Their aggressive physicality, coupled with rhythmic overlapping speech and sensuous tuneful  humming, is somewhat mesmerising.

In fact, the audience’s journey can be seen as reflecting that of Pentheus. We, like he, begin unconvinced, uncomfortable, unwilling to enter into the alien world of Bacchic revelry. As the action develops however, we, like he, become unable to resist the subversive charms of Dionysus and his followers.

These are conveyed variously and effectively by the cast. Will Maynard’s demented Cadmus, monstrous in his depravity, is offset by John-Mark Philo’s frenzied and delirious Teiresius. As a pair they fully showcase the extent of subservience to Dionysus. Agave and Autonoe, Thea Warren and director Osborne respectively, playfully portray the sumptuous, almost erotic elements of worship.

And then there are the two protagonists, seemingly striking in their opposition, the calculating, scheming and grotesque Dionysus of Matt Maltby, and Roland Singer-Kingsmith’s tragic Pentheus, whose decline from a strong ruler to a manic Bacchant is expertly explored. In actuality, what we realize is that the two characters are not that different, and both suffer a loneliness and isolation that constitutes a major element of the play.

The performance in the Hertford bop cellar will apparently feature sound effects, lighting and smoke to emphasise the horror elements of the story, but these seem somewhat unnecessary. The joy, and indeed horror, of this production of The Bacchae is in its simplicity, as the audience is taken on an intense and terrifying journey, perhaps, just maybe, something akin to the most extreme of Bacchic frenzies.

*****

Worcester College JCR oddly seems a suitable place for a performance of A Streetcar Named Desire, with the painted panelling and ceiling to floor curtains somehow giving off the aura of a dodgy 1950’s American apartment. 

The setting also helps to create a slightly claustrophobic atmosphere that accentuates the various clashes of personality that make up the play: not the least of these being that between Stanley and Blanche, who’s opposing characters come across as almost too big for the space.  Stanley, with his loose, lolloping, animalistic movements that look as though they could lead him anywhere; and Blanche, with her deeply engraved manners and poise that have been imposed on an entirely alien environment.
Yet this sense of claustrophobia is not contained to the stage.  With some discourse taking place further forwards, up on the same level as the audience, there is an invitation for the viewer to fully immerse themselves in the action, and you begin to feel like you are a fly on the apartment wall. 

Working with such classic material, there is perhaps a lack of originality.  Blanche’s mannerisms occasionally emulate those of Vivian Leigh in the original film version so closely that it is a little unnerving.  The performance is safe, but by no means inadequate or not enjoyable.  The complicated relationship of mixed affection and miscomprehension between sisters Blanche and Stella is captured well, and there are certainly some nice touches.  For example Blanche’s wearing of gloves throughout seems to emphasise her separation, not only from the world of the other characters, but also from reality itself.
There is nothing especially ambitious about the production, but it is well done, and definitely worth a watch.

***

‘The Man’s Machine’ EP is the latest release from Jamie T’s ‘Kings and Queens’ album. A mish-mash of ska beats and soulful vocals, it’s another sign of Treays’ trajectory from the screech-y teenager of his first album towards something of a national treasure.

That’s not to say the songs have lost any of their anarchic spirit – the title track, ‘The Man’s Machine’ starts off with a bit of a swagger and crashes on with the same DIY sound that made an instant success of ‘Salvador’ and ‘Back in the Game’. The chorus touches on early Britpop with its take on urban landscapes: ‘Stone, glass, concrete and gravel/ All we’ve got to keep us together’.

The unpolished production often makes it feel like listening to a live recording. The intro of ‘Jenny Can Rely On Me’ ends with the noise of a cough, but somehow it works. The song itself details the downside of suburbia with lines like ‘I feel trapped in this cul de sac/ She said “sweetheart we’ve got transport links”.’ This is Jamie T at his best – with his little vignettes of everyday life, it’s easy to see why he’s been described as a modern-day Billy Bragg.

‘Man Not A Monster’ is set to be a hit, having been chosen as Zane Lowe’s Hottest Record In The World Today and one of NME’s 10 Tracks You Have To Hear this week. It starts off well, with a raucous ska beat that brings to mind The Specials’ ‘Rat Race’ and ‘Little Bitch’. But it’s by no means Treays’ best material; the lyrics seem to be missing some of his typical gems, and the rest of the song sounds a little too much like a straight imitation of The Clash.

Thankfully the last track on the record more than makes up for it. It manages to be a gentle pop song with the feel of an anthem; the refrain ‘People always call you young/Believing in things that can’t be done’ mixes in nicely with the piano arrangement and Treays’ rapping.