Passion play

NewGate's powerful Medea

by Bill Rodriguez

MEDEA. By Euripides. Directed by Brien Lang. With Clare Blackmer, Max Vogler, Sharon Carpentier, Victor Lavenstein, and Will Jamison. At NewGate Theatre through April 3.

Some stories are so compelling they last millenniums. Medea is one of them, reaching deeply into us as it reaches back to Euripides' Greece of 5th century BC. What under heaven could compel a women to murder her children not out of madness but from cold calculation? The matter remains baffling whether posed in supermarket tabloid headlines or in the amphitheater at Epidauros.

The intelligent production at NewGate Theatre reminds us what powerful drama is packed into this tragedy -- royal arrogance, a woman spurned, seething rage churning beneath a compliant smile, all ending in an unspeakable act.

Medea was a princess and high priestess but, being foreign-born, was considered an inferior in Greece. She and Jason -- of golden fleece fame -- shared dangerous adventures on his ship the Argo before settling down in Corinth and raising a family. But Medea had been no passive woman in jeopardy during those exploits. A sorceress, it was she who slew the unsleeping dragon guarding the fleece in her native Colchis (in present-day Georgia). Understandably, having contributed so much, she expected a little loyalty. By the time we meet them, Jason has forgotten his own passionate appreciation for Medea, giving thanks and credit instead to the goddess Aphrodite for making his lover an instrument for his protection. He intends to divorce Medea, who will be banished, and marry a younger woman.

Part of what makes the concluding revenge slayings of her two boys plausible is the blood-drenched history of the lovers. In their flight, Medea demonstrated her mettle by killing her own brother as well as King Pelias, who owned the fleece. She certainly was no woman to take jilting lightly. To modern ears, another strand of resentment that stands out is Medea's take on the plight of women. On more than one occasion she waxes steamy about how wives must cope with the tyranny of husbands. With concerns that lift her out of a strictly cultural context, in an early speech she laments how women have to be more tactful than men in a marriage, and don't fare as well in a divorce, but would be better off dead than to remain in an unhappy marriage.

This cast does a workmanlike job. From initial scowl to later glowers, Clare Blackmer's Medea certainly has it in her to dispatch her children. Max Vogler as Jason and Victor Lavenstein as Creon, the king of Corinth, both let a bit of compassion glint through cracks in their hard exteriors, weak points that Medea targets. Other capable support includes Sharon Carpentier as the nurse and F. William Oakes as the king of Athens.

Particularly effective is Will Jamison in the incidental role of the young tutor (a gray-bearded "children's attendant" in the text) to the boys, who are played with charming naturalness by Colin Nagle and Matt DaSilva. Some of this credit goes to director Brien Lang, who has the three of them interact in a lengthy pre-play scene. The tutor tells them (and us) the history of adventure that brought their parents here, including the story of how a brother and sister fled death at the hands of their evil stepmother. The unaffected spontaneity of the trio's interactions makes for a touching foreshadowing of the ill-fated events that follow.

Other directorial touches are as deft, such as having townspeople (Rudy Sanda, Ron Truppa Jr.) sneak up to Medea's door to scrawl "barbarian," a token of her alienation there. Her loyal nurse then scrubs off the chalk as the slave delivers the opening speech of the play. Lang has ritual movement give resonant presence to the chorus (Darlene Amaral, Carol Caulfield, Katherine Sheridan). Perhaps his most skillful touch is to draw from a combination of public domain translations and assemble a text that is elegant but not stilted, with poetic rhythms in elevated passages and conversational tones when appropriate.

Although the sound design could be more assertive at key opportunities, other design elements add rich layers to a highly theatrical staging. The set, by Kitty Lovell, is rusty red, with blue spirals on floor and platform, reminders of Charybdis, the whirlpool that Jason and his Argonauts barely escaped. Costumes by Raven Letourneau, in red and black, set the right tone, and Deb Sullivan's lighting shifts moods quite well.

If you haven't seen this classic, this NewGate production will show you how it should be done.