Following from their success with Lady in the Sheets in Michaelmas 2017, Khameleon Productions has put together an all-BAME cast and crew of over forty students to stage this adaptation of Euripedes’ tragedy. I was shown only a brief section of the show, but the raw energy and power which was emanating from the stage has already blown me away.

Historically, Medea has been a play which lends itself to voicing the challenges of marginalised groups. It has been reinterpreted in the past with a focus on the topics of migration, gay culture and feminism, and the nature of the story makes it clear why. The play sympathetically depicts the plight of Medea, who, after accompanying her husband Jason from her homeland to live with him in Greece, finds her position threatened by his intention to marry another woman to improve his social status. She then decides to take revenge through a brutal and bloody twist which rips the family apart in her struggle to take control in a patriarchal world.

Despite the sensationalism of the plot, Greek tragedy can feel somewhat stale if not handled with care, but director Francesca Amewudah-Rivers, alongside a brilliant choreography team, demonstrates her masterful execution of this form. Portraying the struggles of integration, womanhood and belonging, the script’s style marries well with Khameleon Productions’ fresh, updated angle on the story. The supposed “culture and justice” of Greece is contrasted with what is referred to as the “tribal swamp” from which Medea has come, raising issues of colonialism and migration within the all-BAME context of the production.

Charithra Chandran’s performance of Medea appeared somewhat reserved in the part of the play I was shown, but I could tell there was a vitriolic anger and resentment bubbling beneath the surface of her character that looks like it will emerge explosively later in the play. Joel Stanley provided an appropriate foil to her in his portrayal of Jason, dismissive to his wife’s expression of her concerns. The constant undercurrent of tension onstage is highlighted by a low, anxious string score running throughout, bringing another dimension of excitement and anticipation.

Gorgeous autumnal shades of red and yellow lighting bring out the interstitial nature of Medea’s character, since her lack of belonging is matched by a colour palette that suggests liminality. Coupling this design with the stark naturalism of using real trees to form the majority of the set brought out Medea’s feeling of otherness in her home environment. The simplicity of the black backdrop works effectively with this layout, drawing our eyes to the action on the stage.

The absolute standout element of Medea has to be the imaginative reconstruction of the role of the Chorus. Incorporating spoken word with a haunting version of civil rights anthem I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to Be Free, the Chorus is updated into a Hydra-like entity of multiple voices, bringing out the script’s concern with identity. Combining a talented group of singers with an energetic accompanying drum beat, the Chorus provides a creative portrayal of Medea’s struggle to make her voice heard. The spoken word element is a genius addition to the show, reimagining the role of the Chorus into a dynamic and fluid group who complement the stage action beautifully.

There are so many parts of this production which deserve complimenting. Medea is clearly the result of an incredible collaborative effort by an astounding group of BAME actors, crew and other creatives. Khameleon Productions have showcased some of Oxford’s finest theatrical talent. You won’t want to miss out on what promises to be a truly spectacular result.

William Hazlitt wrote in 1817 that “The Midsummer Night’s Dream, when acted, is converted from a delightful fiction into a dull pantomime…The spectacle was grand; but the spirit was evaporated, the genius was fled.”

Few in the literary or theatrical world would agree with this today, but after watching Filter’s show this evening, I wonder if Hazlitt saw a similar production.

The show overall was not “dull”. It was lively, exciting and very funny. The spectacle was indeed grand. But there was no real emotion or depth – Shakespeare’s subtleties were lost. Filter’s slapstick, audience interaction, music, and contemporary jokes were great. Their delivery and interpretation of what Shakespeare survived the edit, not so much.

The set is simple enough, but looks good. All white, stained tiles lead to an empty fountain. A drumkit and various instruments sit opposite. This starkness will not survive the carnage of actors tearing through walls and the food throwing that is to follow.

The show opens with Peter Quint (George Fouracres) giving a lengthy monologue, effectively ten minutes of stand-up, often unrelated to the play. Fouracres is very entertaining (he is the driving force of the production) and he gets the audience well warmed-up. It’s a clever reinterpretation of Quint’s prologue to the mechanicals’ play within the original text. The Quint-led scenes in particular toy with the metafictional elements throughout. This is handled well.

Nonetheless, I wouldn’t go as far as agreeing with the assessment of The Independent, who called this show “wittily experimental”. This approach to Shakespeare is not innovative or even unusual. Food-fights with the audience, or characters bursting through the sides of the set, are funny, but not shocking. It’s an experiment that has been done many times before, and proven successful, but this means that we can now afford to acknowledge when the play becoming too far removed from the text and is reductive.

The opening scenes with the Duke and the four lovers were dull. Without David Ganly (Bottom) belting out rock-and-roll, or the actors throwing buns at the audience, the pace flags. Shakespeare should not, and need not, be boring. If you’re going to make jokes about the audience being “bored and alienated” at “irrelevant and outdated” drama, you’ve got to disprove this afterwards. Interspersing exciting scenes in modern English with stilted ones in the original language isn’t the way to do this. Filter never discover the potential in Shakespeare’s writing through all the mayhem.

As the plot develops, the weakness of these opening scenes lessens. The introduction of Kayla Meikle as Puck helps. She is very funny and fills in for the lack of stage presence in scenes without Fouracres. Upon entrance, Puck seems to be backstage crew – wearing dark dungarees and a toolbelt. This is a great design for the fairies, and I initially wondered why they didn’t continue it for Titania and Oberon. Oberon (Harry Jardine) is probably the character who interpreted the most originality, but I wasn’t sure this worked. The silliest character in the production (intentionally), he wears a superhero costume and bum bag, and is continually hapless and mocked. At first I found the character irritating, but looking around later-on I realised that the kids in the audience loved him. They were in hysterics at his frustration when he repeatedly fell through the stage.

Filter are aware of their strengths, and it was good that the mechanicals became the central characters. These five played great music, updated the play most interestingly, and got the best laughs. I would go as far as saying that they should scrap the other characters entirely and just do a spin-off adaptation focused on Quint, Bottom, and the “lads”, as they are here referred to. No-one would come expecting a faithful rendition of the script they know. Two hours would become plenty of time to interweave the Shakespeare, contemporary comedy, and music without restriction.

Ultimately, this is a show for families, not English students, but this doesn’t mean it’s not worth seeing. It is pantomime-like – Oberon even does evil laughs – but it confidently demonstrates the joy and fun of the pantomime form. It doesn’t matter that characters such as Theseus and Hippolyta have been cut. Its primary weakness is the bland insertion into this pantomime of some soullessly acted scenes. The other issue is that the levels of humour, wit and emotional depth contained within the text are lost to the physicality and slapstick.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream should demonstrate the unity of “The lunatic, the lover, and the poet” – but Filter only really cover lunacy. If you want an evening of mayhem, head to the Playhouse this week. If you watch Shakespeare for the writing, maybe wait until next time.