Medea
Written by Euripides
Adapted by Robinson Jeffers
Directed by Kevin V. Smith
at Theatre Y, 2649 N. Francisco (map)
thru June 1 | tickets: $15-$20 | more info
Check for half-price tickets
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A surreal spin on a forgotten adaption makes this a treasure
Theatre Y presents
Medea
Review by Clint May
One of the most interesting things about being a critic—or any kind of theater adventurer—is the places it sends you. Mysterious, out-of-the-way places where troupes young and old have carved out a home wherever they could find it. Such was the case in reviewing Theatre Y’s latest offering. In the attic of a building behind St Luke’s Lutheran Church in Logan Square, the gabled roof frames a Gothic window, surrounded by black walls that appear singed with the fires of passion itself. Such a macabre environment is perfect for their latest offering. A hit for 1940s Broadway, Robinson Jeffers’ free adaptation of this near-infinitely malleable archetype has been all but lost. Kevin V. Smith has taken it and injected another layer, blending his (and artistic director Melissa Lorraine’s) view into a multi-layered work that continues to unflinchingly hold its ancient mirror to our collective conscience.
What makes Jeffers’ viewpoint so trenchant is how he goes into Euripides to highlight the 20th century and all the political and post-Freudian insights that brings. Jason (Carlo Lorenzo Garcia) is the epitome of Western male hubris for whom patronizing comes so easily. The gods quite literally provide him with the instruments of his destiny to use and disavow as he pleases. That he has cast aside his most useful ‘instrument’ will begin the chain of events that will ultimately bring his downfall. On the steps of their former home, his first wife Medea (Melissa Lorraine), has turned her fervent adoration into equally vitriolic hatred. While her ex climbs the ladder of power with a princess, the king attempts to clean up some embarrassing loose ends by sending Medea and her two sons (Aaron Lamm and Nicholas Wenz) into exile. This is certain death for a foreign ‘barbarian’ who scorched the land behind her out of love for her husband. Her righteous path to revenge has since become the stuff of legend.Dreamlike detailing abounds courtesy of Smith and the Theatre Y team. A modern Corinthian chorus of young women greet us with short stories from their past. A curtain rises behind them and the sheer depth of the space is made clear as they take up positions next to Medea’s front porch and begin prepping for a modern day prom night. Branimira Ivanova gives Simina Contras, portraying a slave woman who nursed Medea, caked-on makeup and pendulous stuffed breasts to contrast Contras’ obvious youth. The tutor (Julian Stroop) is now also a cat. King Aegeus (Barry Hubbard) is a foppish man whose attempt to discover the source of his infertility didn’t lead him to his overt homosexuality. These combinations of the absurd with the standard and the intimate with the epic creates a captivating tableaux. Even if you don’t understand all the choices or agree with them, it’s hard to deny that Theatre Y has created an absorbing spectacle built more on ascetic discipline than gaudy excess. Like great poetry, these details explode our awareness of what to expect: Through the falling debris we become able to glean new insights.
Despite the heat in the air on this particular warm night, Lorraine was absolutely able to deliver chills. A post-show Q&A with the audience revealed that she likes this work because it forces her, and by extension us, to face demons we’d rather brush under the rug. Contras is just as hypnotic—the lowly creature trying to bring reason back to the world but tortured by the inability to do so. Hubbard and Garcia never quite reach those stratospheric heights of macabre melodrama, which may be intentional. The women carry this show and rightly so.
Replete with so many textural and expressionistic elements, it’s surprising that this may be the first time that Jeffers’ interpretation has been realized in Chicago. Medea is the twisted mirror of our most noble characteristics, able to fascinate across centuries in endless variations of form and medium. Theatre Y has done the city a great favor by unearthing this gem.
Rating: ★★★½
Medea continues through June 1st at Theatre Y, 2649 N. Francisco (map), with performances Thursdays-Sundays at 7pm. Tickets are $15-$20, and are available through their website (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com). More information at Theatre-Y.com. (Running time: 2 hours 10 minutes, includes an intermission)
Photos by Devron Enarson
artists
cast
Melissa Lorraine (Medea), Carlo Lorenzo Garcia (Jason), Simina Contras (The Nurse), Barry Hubbard (Creon & Aegeus), Julian Stroop (The Tutor), Jack Swokowski (Slave), Aaron Lamm (Medea’s Elder Son), Nicholas Wenz (Medea’s Younger Son), Geordie Denholm (Medea’s Female Attendant 1), Mike McCarthy (Medea’s Female Attendant 2)
female chorus
Sierra Buffum, Meredith Montgomery, Briana Morris, Lexi Saunders, Katie Sherman, Kristin Walker
behind the scenes
Kevin V. Smith (director), Branimira Ivanova (costume and make-up design), Benjamin Wardell (movement), Devron Enarson (lighting design), Devron Enarson (photos)
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