THE REVENGE OF THOROUGHLY MODERN MEDEA
Ancient Greeks knew hell has no wrath like a woman scorned
Greek drama might be 3,000 years old, give or take a few centuries, but Greek dramatists then did what all the best storytellers do now. They cut to the chase.
In Chromatic Theatre’s searing production of Medea, Euripides’ all-time dysfunctional family drama which allegedly premièred in 431 BC, the chase involves Greek outsider Medea (a sensational Chantelle Han) trying to come to terms with the news that her Greek husband, Jason (a defiant Justin Michael Carriere), the father of her two young sons, has dumped her and the kids for a chance to marry into the local royal family.
What makes Medea such a stunner of stage storytelling is the way in which scorned Medea responds to Jason’s abandoning her and the children.
Most of the awful news is delivered by the Greek chorus, partic- ularly Nurse (Makambe K. Simamba), who informs Medea that she’s been banished from Athens, and should take the boys with her.
It’s all delivered in straightforward, blunt prose — there’s no subtext in Greek drama — so you don’t have to keep an eye out for the arched eyebrow or meaning underneath the meaning.
The task isn’t an enviable one, but Simamba delivers her devastating news with such ferocious commitment that you can’t help but hate Jason, one of the earliest social climbing schmucks of the stage — but far from the last.
All of this awful news is received by Medea, a Gypsy girl who ran away from her hometown in the name of love, only to have Nurse announce that Jason has fallen for someone shiny, someone new, someone younger — and someone betterconnected.
Han’s Medea receives each new bolt of emotional lightning with a compelling blend of exasperation, rage — and determination to get payback.
Does it require a spoiler alert when the show premiered 431 years before Jesus was born?
Here it comes: To avenge her betrayal by Jason, Medea decides to murder her sons.
It’s almost too horrible to contemplate, but under Alyssa Bradac’s lean, dynamic direction, that sense of otherness that permeates Medea’s every move makes far more dramatic sense than if she’d been played say, by Annette Bening, who actually did play her in one production.
Carriere’s Jason has an unenviable task — namely, trying to justify ditching his family for a chance to climb the Athenian food chain — but he holds his own against the righteous fury of Han’s Medea.
Han manages somehow to find the hurt and humanity underneath Medea’s rage, turning her into one of the least-likely sympathetic characters you’re ever likely to come across on a Calgary stage.
She gets a little support, not from the dynamic Simamba, and not from the rest of the chorus, including Chromatic artistic director Jenna Rodgers, Carly McKee and Ali DeRegt, all of whom provide plenty of morally outraged sidebars, the better to allow Medea to plot Jason’s downfall.
Director Bradac does a remarkable job, using little more than some sheets and an elegant, minimalist soundscape to transform the unremarkable ( but renovated and rejuvenated) Motel into ancient Athens.
She takes that one step further, turning a 2,400-year-old script into a powerful, taut drama that feels like it could have been written today.