Oresteia[author-post-rating] (1/5 Stars)

Cambridge University ADC’s production of Oresteia takes a stab at revamping Aeschylus’s trilogy into an Oceans 11-style drama-comedy, about Las Vegas casinos. The concept sounds like an innovative interpretation, but the finished production is just too incongruous and awkward to succeed.

Take the in-your-face introduction which is intentionally tongue-in-cheek, yet still manages to be derisory. During a brief prologue, Agamemnon, dressed in jailbird’s orange overalls and sporting a mock-US accent, announces that it is “eight years before the fall of Troy” in the manner of a US television drama. Spotlights introduce the characters one by one in what looks like a gaudy credit-sequence, during which each strikes a distinguishing pose (a sinister smirk, a placid nod, an unnecessary karate kick, etc) while Jay-Z’s 99 Problems blares inexplicably. There is a limit to how facetious a sequence like this can get before everything just becomes inharmonious.

The difficulty of making the plot up-to-date regularly threatens to turn the production into a caricature of itself. For instance, turning the iconic Helen of Troy into a computer fundamentally changes the drive of the plot. H.E.L.E.N. is a counting system that was stolen by the owner of a rival casino “Troy” under ridiculous circumstances, ostensibly involving Agamemnon being framed for fraud, for which he seeks vengeance – the interface that launched a thousand ships, if you will. Similarly slapdash ‘updates’ include justifying Electra’s desire to see her mother killed through her apparent addiction to violent video-games. Likewise, the death of Agamemnon’s first daughter Iphigenia can no longer be blamed on the demands of Ancient Greek Gods, and so is instead loosely attributed to her father’s refusal to “negotiate with terrorists”. Despite being conscious of the rehashed contemporary American setting, these scenarios are only superficially expanded and feel like crude attempts to modernise.

Also seemingly incompatible with present-day America is the fantastic bloodlust of the Oresteia. After murdering Agamemnon, Clytemnestra does not revel in the sensual, bloody, God-like imagery about stabbing her husband in the bath, as she usually does in adaptations. Here the circumstances of the murder entail the couple shuffling around the stage, some kissing, her handcuffing him to a chair, some ineffective dialogue and her pulling out a knife before a blackout. The direction could benefit from more consideration, as could the costuming: at one point Orestes is insipidly established as being “in training” by donning jujitsu attire and doing press-ups at the side of the stage.

I suspect there are some decent actors among the cast but the play is so chaotic it does not really showcase talent. When the acting is bad though, it is telling. Half-hearted shrugging and muttering of lines often leaves the audience struggling to hear, let alone understand, what is going on. It also causes confusion, because an unenthused performer and a performer feigning dry apathy seem markedly similar. Hence an aside like Orestes’s “I’m just going to stand over here for a while so they don’t recognise me” donning a hoodie over his jujitsu robe at his father’s grave so that sister Electra will not recognise him, becomes unintentionally ambiguous. Was it an attempt at sarcasm? Or was it just a flatly delivered line?

The consequences are weighed up in the third part, The Eumenides, satirised in a Judge Judy-style TV trial hosted by Athena and Apollo. This feature is actually the most interesting part of the play, and can boast genuine humour. However it is so short it is essentially a sketch, and does not occur until the final five minutes. Whether you know the play or not, this performance is difficult to sit through until then.

Oresteia is at C venues until 17 August. For more information and tickets, visit the Edinburgh Fringe website.