The classics have a difficult relationship with modern art. Arguably, the last writer to achieve success by taking on classic themes was in the generation of T.S. Eliot, and the academic discipline has seen a slow decline in popularity as it has come to be associated with Euro-centrism and misogyny through the 20th century.  Modern treatments of classical texts tend to spend much effort escaping their perceived stodginess—Anne Carson’s bizarre and unpleasant travesty of Sophocles, “Antigonick,” comes to mind.

It is a great joy, then, to report that this was not the case in the Loeb Experimental Theater this past weekend. Running from Oct. 9 to Oct. 11, Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club’s “With Fates Driving”—written by Alona Bach ’16, scored by Eric R. Corcoran ’16, and directed by Sean K. Hardy ’16—presented a brilliant treatment of the fourth book of Virgil’s “Aeneid” that was both fresh and loyal to the source, proving definitively that it is possible to present an interesting and novel treatment of a text without subjecting it to intellectual fads.

Bach’s script takes as its focal point Ascanius (known familiarly in the production as Jules, a play on Ascanius’s other moniker in Virgil’s poem—Iulus), played with pathos but without melodrama by Jacob D. Rienstra ’17.  Ascanius is the son of Aeneas (William Pinkham), the last scion of the royal house of Troy and the man fated to find Italy and found the kingdom that will become Rome. The years have not been kind to Jules. He still has nightmares of the sack of Troy and dreams of his dead mother, Creusa (Katherine E. Moon ’14), who comforts him as best she can. Upon the Trojans’ arrival in Carthage, Jules finds himself nearly forgotten by his already grim and distant father, who is enamored of the Punic queen Dido (also played by Moon).

Bach’s approach is a successful departure from traditional retellings, which generally take either Aeneas or Dido as their protagonists. The style is colloquial without being jarringly dissonant with the material, in contrast with (for example) last semester’s butchery of Wilde’s “Salomé.” The play is not without low-register comedy—an early scene features a tirade from Juno (Leonie A. Oostrom ’15), who proclaims, “the whole stupid world sucks balls and I hate it”—but it never stoops to the ridiculous. Bach’s dealing with the character of Aeneas is especially well done. The Trojan prince tends to be treated as a bland figure, presented either as a flat, saintly paragon of good behavior or a weak-willed coward. Here, however, is an Aeneas who is exceedingly grim, haunted by the past and tortured about the future. A nihilistic Aeneas is something new and a productive interpretation.

Under Hardy’s careful eye assisted by dramaturge Talia M. Saal ’16, the staging worked in perfect concert with the text. The set (designed by Matthew J. Ciommo ’15), with its columns and wrecked ship, maintained a classical atmosphere without distracting the eye in the way that “period-style” productions tend to. Blocking decisions enhanced tension within scenes. The lighting (designed by Adam O. Brodheim ’16) was nothing short of brilliant: Hardy used the entire stage area of the Ex to its fullest potential, artfully conveying aspects of action and enabling transitions in scene that would have otherwise been impossible. For instance, slow light strobing allowed for the quick presentation of miniature flashback scenes, providing background for the main action. Corcoran’s incidental music, while lush and moving in its own right, never interfered with or distracted from the dramatic action and was flawlessly performed by a live band.

Actors’s performances were good throughout the cast. Rienstra’s Jules has been noted above; the other performance of special note was Moon’s apt treatment of both Creusa and Dido.  Her transitions from caring mother to shallow material-girl were deft, and her interpretation of each was subtle and well controlled. It is perhaps the greatest testament to a performer’s skill (as well as the subtlety of staging and text) that they can scream onstage without becoming laughable. Moon passed this test with flying colors.

Few things could have been improved in this production. The most notable was the somewhat ineffective treatment of the motif of playing cards, used as a symbol for chance and fate.  Their insertion throughout felt heavily artificial and not well-integrated into the text. In one scene, Aeneas teaches Ascanius how to “read cards.” It is unclear what this means. None of the cards drawn are distinctly tarot, but it does not seem worthwhile to teach someone specifically how to read face values off ordinary cards. It does not help that the cards are all blank, depriving the viewer of even the physical cues of what is happening.

Nevertheless, this production was a resounding success by any standard. It is to be ardently hoped that future treatments of classical topics take Bach’s “With Fates Driving” as a model to embrace and that the participants in this production continue to practice the artistic ideals on display here.