Medea

Written by Euripides

Directed by Laith Zawawi

At the Quincy House JCR

FIRST thought: Terrific, Medea is playing this weekend at Quincy House. Now you won't have to bother cracking open your copy for Heroes.

Second thought: Looking over the program notes: Oh swell, it's an adaptation. This could be a tragedy in more ways than one.

Your hands begin to sweat as you look around Quincy's transformed JCR--or cavern, rather. The stage is configured into the shape of a capital letter I. There are two boxes at each end of the I, chairs along the length of the room, and black drapes everywhere.

The lights are dimmed: enter Light Spirit (Thea F.L. Henry), who perches herself atop one of the boxes. Hold on a second. What is a Light Spirit and why in the world is it dancing on top of that black box? Could you have missed Professor Nagy's seminal lecture on the "Dancing Box Top Spirits?"

Director Laith Zawawi scraps the traditional Greek chorus and employs in its place the streamlined commentary of the Dark and Light Spirits. Henry as the Light Spirit and a Darth Vaderesque Christina Kiely as her darker counter-part are permanent fixtures to the play. When they don't have any lines they simply stand there spreading their good or bad karma. It's quite a New Age-like concept--one can almost feel all that cosmic energy being thrown about.

Yet the concept actually works. Instead of having a bevy of babbling Corinthian women calling in the exits and entrances of every single character, we have an Al Michaels and Frank Gifford-like, cut-to-the-finish narration of what's going down on the floor.

Aside from this "box spirit" innovation, the play remains essentially intact. The focus remains throughout on our crazed heroine, whose reputation precedes her. For, more than two millenia before Glenn Close wielded her first Ginsu or Farrah Fawcett burned her first Sealy mattress, there was Medea and her ignominious crimes of passion.

We really can't blame Medea for acting like Alexis Colby. After all, it's not every day that the father of your two sons dumps you to marry a royal princess. Too bad Medea didn't have a case of china at her disposal when Jason tried to explain to her that he married the princess because it would be a beneficial move for the state. It might have come in handy.

TANYA Selvaratnam as Medea goes full throttle with the mental illness aspect of her character. From the very beginning of the play, Selvaratnam portrays Medea as having lost it full tilt. Thus, you lose sight of the rational motivations that her character might possess.

In direct contrast to Selvaratnam's stress grenade performance is Stefan Howells' cold and calculating portrayal of Jason. Jason has some terrific exchanges with Medea where he tries to convince her that the marriage was necessary. Howells perfectly grasps his character's mathematic precision of logic. At one point--Light Spirit forbid--you almost believe in what Jason is saying.

Creon (Peter Mitchell), Jason's father and ruler of Corinth, can be blamed for the relationship's messy breakup. Trying to be a good father, he looks out for his son's political best interests. He realizes that Medea is not from the right side of the Parthenon, so he sends her walking. Likewise, Medea's Nurse (Zoe Mulford) is looking out for her charge. Mitchell's hard-edged Creon is not exactly Heath-cliff Huxtable. But Mulford, with her sympathetic swooning and simpering, makes Mrs. Cleaver look like an absentee parent.

But enough of the Masterplots summary. Go on and see Medea for yourself. It's well worth your effort and both cheaper and quicker than buying and reading the book. Just remember not to mention the "Dancing Box Top Spirits" in your final essay.