
The Oresteia at The Bridge (Image from https://www.bridgetheatre.co.uk/whats-on/the-oresteia/
Dear Readers, as you know I go to see a lot of theatre, and last week I managed two matinees: ‘The Misanthrope’ at the National Theatre and ‘The Oresteia’ at The Bridge. Both productions were interesting and held my attention – Sandra Oh, the lead actress in ‘The Misanthrope’ was sick on the day that I attended, but her understudy was excellent. Both plays were modern-day adaptations: ‘The Misanthrope’ is based on Molière’s comedy, about a plain-speaking aristocrat who gets himself into trouble by speaking the truth (as he sees it), while ‘The Oresteia’ is based on a trilogy of plays by ancient Greek writer Aeschylus. In the National Theatre production of ‘The Misanthrope’, ‘Alice’ is an author who tells everybody the truth and gets herself into all sorts of trouble, whilst ‘The Oresteia’ focuses on the Middleton family: the father is the director of a company that manufactures armaments (as opposed to King Agamemnon, who sacrificed his eldest daughter in order to get fair winds for the voyage to Troy).
The Oresteia is a bit of a haul (3 hours and 30 minutes with two intervals (I recommend the caramel ice cream with chocolate chips). The performances were excellent all round, and the set is really something (see photo above). However, because some of the scenes are played inside that glass box the sound was sometimes muddy, plus everyone is arguing or speaking across everyone else, so it can be difficult to work out what’s going on. The play is based on the Orestes trilogy by Aeschylus so, as you might expect, there’s lots of bloodshed: the patriarch is killed by his wife, who is in turn killed by her son. But whereas in the classical original the themes are universal moral questions, this really seems to have turned into morie of a soap opera.
However.
I came away, as I so often do these days, with the feeling that both plays suffered from ‘stuff everything in-ism’. There was sexism, racism, ‘me-too’, climate change, ‘political correctness’ and its ramifications, and a dozen other things besides. There is not a moment of thoughtful silence in either play – maybe understandable in a comedy like ‘The Misanthrope’, less so in something based on a Greek tragedy. But maybe this is to do with the highly stimulating environment that we now live in, with the constant pinging of phones and 24 hour entertainment available to stream wherever we go. I feel as if many playwrights (and film makers, and authors) are afraid that we’ll be bored if they don’t throw every possible theme into a single work.
I am hearing from a lot of people who are finding it hard to focus when reading, so maybe the same is true of the performing arts. What I’m not sure about is whether this is actually a general trend, or if it’s just my reaction to being over-stimulated. I’ve always enjoyed the space in a performance that allows you to think for yourself, or makes room for a gradual realisation about the implications of an action, or what a character has said. There is room for this and for the over-the-top, crammed shows that excite and stimulate. I suppose that’s why I’m more ready to forgive The Misanthrope for its hyperactivity than I am The Oresteia. But it seems a shame if everything tilts towards too much, all the time, so that the audience staggers out unsure of what they’ve seen.
What do you think, Readers? Are the arts responding to the challenge of instant stimulation by becoming over-stimulated themselves? Or has it ever been thus? Are you having trouble focussing on longer, slower works? And is there an answer?
Such interesting thoughts here. Especially after having sat through three hours of the incredibly loud Odysseus!
Did you enjoy The Odyssey, Christine? I’ve heard very mixed reviews (plus I’m a big Homer fan, so a bit narked at some of the liberties taken with the story)…
Bobby told me you’d been posting about this after I went last night. I may not be able to talk about plants like my mum, but I can talk about theatre!
I agree with so much of what you said. If someone labelled it “This is theatre for the Netflix generation” I’d totally believe it. Down to its episodic nature, and cliffhanger-eseque drama at the end of the ‘episode’.
I think it’s of an era where noise and shouting and melodrama give the feeling of something going on without having to really sit and live with the story it wants to tell and its consequences. This sort of eloquent/interesting/handsome psychopath thing is also becoming a bit of a cliché too (see also Happy Valley, The Fall.)
The daughter’s accent I found very off-putting – what was it and how did she get it given her parents and brother sounded nothing like it?
The set was fantastic, but even that having that format done in a previous show of his Phaedra didn’t feel cutting edge.
Not terrible, but it didn’t quite work for me. And for an epic Greek tragedy it all felt a little lacklustre.
Hi Antony! Yes to all this, I’d forgotten about the daughter’s accent. And welcome to another theatre-lover! Now I’m retired I’m taking in as much as I can, we are so lucky in London to have such a range of theatre. This week it’s The Guilty at the Donmar, though at only just over an hour I’m very curious as to what it will pack in. Email me if you ever fancy a theatre chat!