“There is no sorrow in all of the world that is not my sorrow,” Hecuba insists as she helplessly witnesses debilitating tragedies unfold in post-war Troy. Her husband killed, her daughters widowed, and her home obliterated, Hecuba is the literal manifestation of someone who has lost everything. In “The Trojan Women,” Director Federico Roitman ’18 attempted to capture the suffering of the women of Troy in their immense post-war devastation. The show served as a reminder of the terrible effects of war on those who survive. Running in the Loeb Drama Center from Oct. 14 to 22 by the Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club, it was as relevant to modern times as it was centuries ago when it was first written, and Roitman’s version certainly did justice to this timeless classic.

Roitman created no ambiguity in establishing the modern context of this ancient play. It began with footage of George Bush addressing the nation at the initiation of the war in Iraq. Scenes of massive American bombings in various Middle Eastern countries followed, and finally the ex-President was shown struggling to respond to reporters’ inquiries after the invasion in Iraq is conclusively deemed a failure. “They started it,” he says, referring to the Sept. 11 attacks, as if the price for the atrocity could be paid by any Middle Eastern country regardless of actual participation in the atrocity. In the context of modern day US intervention and war, Roitman did a remarkable job of bringing home Sartre’s message in adapting this play—that aggressive, hate-fuelled war destroys humanity.

The highlight of “The Trojan Women” was, without doubt, Sumner Perera ’19’s impeccable portrayal of Hecuba. Oscillating remarkably between deep, roaring exclamations and gentle, meek expressions, Perera showed a great mastery over the range and impact of her voice; her frantic movements and tearful, glaring eyes accentuated the impression of a troubled old woman helplessly trying to cope with reality. The death of Astyanax was perhaps the most moving scene of the play; Perera’s acting once again shined through as Hecuba wails at the death of her only grandson, who could have been the savior of Troy.

Kat T. Nakaji’s modest set effectively built a post-war scenario. The dense colors in the set’s equipment and ominous presence of dim blue-red lights lent a dark overtone to the whole setting. Accompanied by the slight background sound of a rainy night next to the gushing sea, the whole setting succeeded in creating an atmosphere of despair. The similarly successful choice of costumes meshed seamlessly into the modern context of the play. Menelaus (Todd E. Jones ’16) donned a full charcoal grey suit while his men are in camouflage army uniforms. The association of the antagonist with modern Western costume accentuated Roitman’s disapproval of Western interventionism that creates more problems than it solves; costume designer Camille Mathieu-Bélanger ’19 was certainly successful in her attempt.

Roitman kept in store a spin that comes as a major surprise halfway through the play. After Hecuba’s soliloquies and the buildup of the characters’ despair, Helen’s entrance introduced comic relief to an otherwise solemn situation. Anna Schuliger ’20, playing the provocative, unfaithful Helen and clad in a shocking pink skirt and high heels, served to change the somber tone of the play as she made comical excuses in front of Menelaus for her elopement with Paris. Her sharp, squeaky voice and her fictional stories alleviated the tension of the play and we even got to see Hecuba in a less menacing mood. “My chastity was my contribution. There is nothing more precious to a woman, you know,” Helen said to Menalaus, expressing her feigned guilt as she tried to convince him that her promiscuity was aimed at helping the Greeks win the war. Some might have argued that this humorous twist feels out of place, but Roitman’s decision to include the comic relief showed that he sensed that without it the play would either become monotonous or would have to be cut short. The insertion of humor allowed the audience some respite and, moreover, left it unprepared for the scene of Astyanax’s death, which brought back the survivors’ terrible desperation with full force.

Roitman’s display of Sartrean influence on the modernized version of Euripides’s play was unmistakable. Existential dread surfaced in each of the victims’ lines. Whether life is worth living anymore once a fate of slavery and prostitution has been sealed became a question of universal concern. Sartre was not exactly a pious believer himself, and therefore his principles of self-responsibility and freedom permeate his adaptation. The gods and their so-called justice were audaciously questioned, and we saw Hecuba lamenting her dependence and belief in them. “Better to rely on my own legs,” Hecuba said, convinced of the futility of expecting wisdom and justice from the gods.

Although the plot does not build much throughout the play, the message it conveyed was timeless and universal nonetheless. Perera’s brilliant performance, Roitman’s humorous spin of Helen’s role, and the potency of the play’s modern setting came together to form a unique interpretation of the devastation left behind by war.