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Micky Jo
Now you have to assume, you have to, that at some point, while the recent Robert Icke version of Oedipus was playing at the Wyndham's Theatre in the West End, somebody from the Old Vic went to go and see that one and thought to themselves, oh, this is, this is actually very good. And that's going to be a problem because, and I'm very sorry to say this, the best part of their new production of Oedipus starring Rami Malek and Indira Varma, is that like it says, it lasts for 100 minutes. I'm even sorrier to say that the worst part of it is that that is a hundred minutes too many. Oh my God. Hey, welcome back to my theatre themed YouTube channel. Or hello to you if you are listening on podcast platforms. My name is Micky Jo and I am obsessed with all things theatre. I am professional theatre critic here on social media and today we are going to be talking all about the Old Vic's new production of Oedipus starring Rami Malek and Indira Varma. And there's something going on in London right now with these Greek plays because this is not the only opening this week with Elektra having officially opened a few days ago. If you haven't yet seen my review for that one, it's interesting, go and check that out. But it's also impossible for us not to acknowledge that this Oedipus is coming on the heels of another Oedipus which was playing at the Wyndham's Theatre over winter. That production in a new adaptation written and directed by Robert Icke, starring Mark Strong and Leslie Manville. I didn't review that here on social media, but I did get to see it right before it closed, with the specific intention of eventually being able to compare the two productions, which is going to be another video, another episode coming subsequently. Today we are going to focus on this one in its own right and believe me, there is plenty for us to say. Buckle up. It's going to be one of those reviews today and if you enjoy, make sure to subscribe or follow me wherever you are seeing my face or hearing my voice. As always, stay tuned for more reviews coming soon and share your own thoughts about this production. If you have been able to see it already at the old Fake in the comments section down below, if, like me, you have seen both of. I was going to say the Oedipuses. I think it's Oedipodes. Oedipuses starts to sound just too much like something else. If you had the chance to see both of them, then feel free to do a little bit of a compare contrast of your own in the comments. But really, I mean, it's like completely different things. It's like comparing a strawberry cheesecake and a vat of cement. On which note, let's talk about Oedipus, open brackets, old Vicks version, close brackets. So let's dig into this one. Our man Oedipus, here, as portrayed in this production by Rami Malek, is a tragic Greek mythological hero best known for his depiction in the Sophoclean tragedy, Oedipus Rex, now more commonly associated in popular parlance with the Oedipus complex, as coined by Sigmund Freud. That complex speaks to an unhealthily close relationship between a son and his mother and a rivalry with his father for his mother's affections. And it's derived from the events of this plane, from the Oedipal myth, that is that Oedipus and Jocasta, as played in this production by Indira Varma, who at the beginning of the play, are ruling together as the royal couple of Thebes, and they have children, will eventually have the rug pulled out from underneath them as they find out that their relationship is actually a lot more complicated. And it's interesting because you have to assume at this point that the majority of people are arriving as audience members to these productions, already aware that this twist is coming. It's like going to see Romeo and Juliet. Like, we know they're not making it out alive. But what that means then is that if it's basically impossible to make this a substantial and major revelation, which, astonishingly, the Ike version still managed to make it seem like a surprise, what then are you presenting to audiences? And it becomes really about the realization for these characters, the whole thing weighs heavily with dramatic irony, because while they're making out at the beginning, we know that that's really her son. Explained eventually by some variation on the idea that she had a baby that her husband, the previous king, had forced her to give up. The baby was taken away and abandoned on a mountaintop, where it was given to someone else or found by someone El, and was adopted by a family in a different region. The baby eventually came of age, and as the result of various prophecies made by essentially a network of different oracles around the greater ancient Greek area, the child Oedipus is responsible for the death of the king Lysis, who is also, unbeknownst to him, his father. This all having happened prior to the events of the play. Subsequently, he had also met the king's widow, Jocasta, and there having been an instant chemistry between them, can't think why they then marry and have biological children. And if you're listening to all of this thinking, wow, those Greeks were messed up, weren't they? I encourage you to go and keep up with the Kardashians. Anyway, if we know all of this beforehand, it starts to feel a little bit like voyeurism as we are waiting for the penny to drop for these two characters and that moment becomes so important. Unfortunately, in this production, that moment is one of a whole handful of aspects which is truly not done justice. It is just spectacularly mishap handled amidst a messy and muddled and disappointing and baffling version of the play. So let's start at the beginning. This is a new adaptation by Ella Hickson, the actual material of which is relatively thin. Like, there's not that many plot points to the story of Oedipus, as I said recently, Greek tragedy, not a lot of things happening on paper. It's all about the reactions to them and the emotional weight and the consequences. Oh, my God, I've had children with my son. Like, you can draw that out for a handful of paragraphs. Either that or several years in therapy. It's entirely up to you. But what little there is of the text is also puzzling for a whole handful of reasons. We are in terms of the time period where the whole thing is taking place, entirely non specific. There are elements of it, both in the speech and the geography and the design, that make it feel like it's meant to be classic and of the accurate era. Then you have Oedipus anecdotally dropping into conversation that prior to getting lost in the desert, he stumbled into a bar, which I guess be inherently anachronistic if we use different terminology, but the way he describes it certainly feels like it is. Then you have the entire concept and the framing which is driving the necessity of these revelations and of this exploration of the past and of the reasons behind the previous king's death. Essentially, Thebes is in the middle of an objectively dreadful drought and there is a gathered crowd who are understandably upset about all of this, looking to Oedipus, their king, for some sort of a solution. He is flanked by Creon, who is advising him to turn to religion and the advice of oracles and the gods representative. From what I could tell of one of the themes that the co directors here are trying to evoke from this interpretation of the tragedy. And that is this idea of religious oppression, particularly in the way that it ends. But we're going to get there, don't worry. In this way, much of the play's action unfolds on this very public stage with Oedipus addressing a crowd, with him bringing forth eyewitnesses from the death of the king in order to give testimony in what he thinks is going to be a very straightforward clearing of his name, hilariously, and if this matters to you, is going to be a little bit of a spoiler alert for this production. That same shepherd, which he brings onto the stage in order to prove his innocence, and literally ushers towards a microphone in front of this angry crowd of very thirsty, slightly dying Greek people, is also the very person who ends up reluctantly pointing the finger of blame towards Oedipus, who did in fact murder the king as a young man while himself very hungry and very thirsty in the desert. And what's hilarious about this is that it doesn't occur to Oedipus until this very moment, after several scenes of saying, of course I didn't kill the king. How could I have killed the king? Why would the oracle say that I killed the king? It's ridiculous to think that I would have killed the king. Oedipus, only when the shepherd explains everything to him, realizes that he ought to have remembered that one time in a desert when he beat the out of a random man who he didn't realize was the king. It's like, oh, that guy. Oh yeah, I killed that guy. Just didn't know who he was. And listen, we've all been there. And hell, even the shepherd doesn't think it's Oedipus's fault because the king said some nasty words to him and wouldn't get out of his way and didn't take pity on Oedipus for being incredibly hungry and thirsty, though apparently still capable of killing a man. That apparently is justification enough for death. And I hope that this particular shepherd never ends up in traffic court. But this, for me, was a persistent and significant problem with this material, because what the I did so well is it afforded Oedipus and Jocasta enough plausible ignorance. It was entirely conceivable that they wouldn't have put all of the pieces together until the moment that they do. But that is not the only nonsensical moment we experience in this version of Oedipus, because when the penny eventually drops for Jocasta, when the shepherd subsequently reveals that he also escorted Oedipus as a young baby, under the exact circumstances Jocasta has already described to him as the circumstances of her abandoned child that she believes to be dead to the exact location that she specified to Oedipus. Jocasta falls to the floor in a moment of devastated realization. I'll remind you that most moment of the play, the one that we all know is coming, the one that we are waiting to witness, and Oedipus simply is not on the same wavelength as anyone else in the room. He hears all of this and goes, oh, so the shepherd is my father, Then who's my mother? Shakes the man asks him multiple times. And in his performance, there is no sense whatsoever of this being born of any kind of denial or desperation. He just literally seems dumb. And you hate to come down on the sides of religious zealots, but after that moment, I'm a little like, maybe the man should be publicly shamed and have his eyes plugged out, because he's clearly not fit to rule two kingdoms, let alone one. The grandeur of the tone that Ella Hickson is also trying to consecrate here is very at odds with some of the more flippant and frankly, silly exchanges between these characters. When Oedipus is rendered inarticulate by the news of his father's death and Jocasta assures Creon, just give him a minute, give him a minute. It seems a little more like a scene out of EastEnders. Similarly, when Creon, right towards the end of the thing, is trying to assuage the growing rage of the collected crowd who are angry to find out that they don't have the opportunity to publicly shame Jocasta, and he says, no, don't worry, don't worry, she's hanged herself. In almost that exact intonation. I literally laughed into my hands. Needless to say, this is not where we ought to be when it comes to Greek tragedy. And even that entire framing concept, yes, it provides us a natural sense of theatricality and attention. It situates the audience as this crowd, which is something I normally really enjoy in the theater. But staying in that setting for so much of the thing, rather than retaining it for a more dramatic conclusion, very much undermines its power. All of this before we begin to talk about the creative choices by co directors Hofesh Schechter and old fake artistic director Matthew Borchus. So the other big component of this production is the use of contemporary dance in Greek tragedy, and this one in particular, there would be a Greek chorus. They are absent from this Product in word, but they are present in movement. What to do with the Greek chorus in a contemporary version of a Greek tragedy has been an interesting subject over the last few months. The Ike version did away with them entirely. I think they're actually quite well represented on the other side of the Thames over at the Duke of York's Theatre in Elektra. Right now, this production has them as a wordless troupe of dancers conveying a sense of emotion, ish. Through contemporary dance. And I am, I will be the first to say the right person to review a theatrical production. I am the wrong person to review contemporary dance. And specifically those moments of contemporary dance where we are meant to derive some sort of meaning or narrative. There are moments of celebration that comes across. There are moments of chaos, and then they're giving it this. That comes across. Each of these are simply too extended. Because if we. And by we, I really mean me, are only drawing a singular emotion from this, we get it quite quickly. And then we're just watching people doing, admittedly, you know, very well performed, very synchronized and very slickly choreographed and very visually striking contemporary dance for a prolonged amount of time over very oppressive drum and bass music, which, again, looks great. It's just challenging to really derive a meaning. And I don't know that it speaks whatsoever to the themes of the piece. I mentioned the religious oppression of it all. But another one mentioned by director Matthew Warchus in the foreword in the program is the idea of fear as a huge motivator for many of these characters. The death of King Lysis comes about because of his fear of a prophecy dictated by an oracle. The entire reason that Oedipus is cast out as a baby is tied up in that as well. It's the fear, particularly of these men in power, though the production doesn't really contend with that. Specifically, which motivates all of the choices which ends up leading to their demise. And Jocasta has a little bit of acknowledgement of this. I like the gender politics that they bring into this. I like that Jocasta gets a little bit separated from that because she has not really made any choices that have brought these consequences. Everything has sort of happened to her since the start of it all. She gets to issue that message about the futility of a life motivated by fear, which, interestingly enough, is also the takeaway from the film Strictly Ballroom. And she also gets to survive the chaos of it all because the oracle Tiresias, also played by a female performer in this production, goes to Jocasta and recommend that she flee which, sensibly, she does. After about one sentence of protestation, Jocasta says to Tiresias, there's no way I could ever abandon my daughters. And Tiresias literally replies, I'll raise them for you, maybe, if I have time. Jocasta then hears that very non committal suggestion of vague babysitting, pops a scarf over her head and legs it See ya Thebes. That's good enough for me. If you're wondering about the design elements of this production, they're unremarkable. It's a stark set. There is a centrally lit platform that raises slightly up and down. An illuminated back wall occasionally projects large faces, but more often than not shows either complete darkness or a sort of a sunset color palette. But it otherwise feels like another one of those stroked back time non specific productions where the focus should just be on the intense acting and these exchanges of dialogue. Unfortunately, the thing at the very heart of it all is just wrong on so many levels. Another of them being the acting performances. Let's talk about this company now. I'm a big fan of Indira Varma. I think she has done terrific dramatic work. I loved her in Jamie Lloyd's the Seagull. I've really enjoyed her prior to that on stage as well. This is not her best outing simply because she doesn't have particularly good material to contend with. It seems astonishingly shallow, especially in the wake of the Robert Icke version where you had Mark Strong and Leslie Manville crawling around on the floor, just so utterly horrified and devastated by the realization of the true nature of their relationship. To have Jocasta in this one sat a couple feet away from Oedipus and saying, maybe we just move this after finding out. And she's like, sure, that wasn't the best news for us to receive, but maybe we just go over to the other kingdom that you're also the king of. We'll take our daughters, slash my granddaughters, your sisters with us and everything's gonna be fine. With so little meat to play with in that moment, it's of little surprise that Dear Obama isn't really doing her best work. She falls to the floor like someone who's had disappointing GCSE results and she gets over it pretty quickly, which is still better than Rami Malek fares. There is a moment in this production's curtain call where he is bouncing around and he is smiling giddily and you think this finally is charismatic and joyous and playful. Who the hell looked at this man and said, you know what he should do? Oedipus that makes the most sense here. And before we even get to how ill suited he is for this performance, can we talk about these two cast as mother and son? Because I actually think she reads younger than him on stage. It doesn't feel like she is the older woman here and like it's not implausible when they tell the story, but I find the casting a little misogynistic. They are but eight years apart, and if anything, I think he looks older. He also likes all of the necessary status and presence and authority as a ruler. His characterization only really comes into focus when he is describing himself as a much younger man. But many of the details of his performance are unusual. His physicality is very strange and gangly. His spoken delivery lacks the requisite passion and theatrical expression. Even when he is brought back on with a bloody bandage around his since removed eyes, he just seems a little put out by it. The more committed performances are coming from Nicholas Khan as Creon and Cecilia Noble as Tiresias. They each still have to deliver this occasionally baffling script, but Cecilia's commitment to this booming omniscient insistence and Nicholas's to this fervent polytheistic dedication are at least both developed and coherent characters. Otherwise, I feel this production of Oedipus actually functions best as a dance piece. But as it is, it's two completely different pieces of theatre stitched together in a way that is never coherent. And the one that has the actors doing dialogue has gaping problems. As it stands, we get onto this train already knowing the destination. There is no surprise or excitement when we eventually get there. And then, for some strange reason, it all continues for another 35 minutes. It might actually be less, but it felt like more. See this if you're intrigued about the fusion between Greek tragedy and contemporary dance. If you're someone who enjoys contemporary dance, then that's probably going to really speak to you from this production. See this. I guess if you're a huge fan of these performers, see this to make up your own mind and see this. If you've already seen the other Oedipus and you're glutton for punishment, just don't pay a vast amount of money for a ticket and don't take your mother. Those have been my thoughts about Oedipus at the Old Vic Theatre in London. Stay tuned because I will be sharing a little bit of an overview about the two different productions compared, because I do think it's fascinating that you can get such completely different pieces of theater from the same origin and you know, startling that they happened so close together and that they were announced on the same day. There's a fun story to be told there as well as, of course, comparing their reviews. In the meantime, that has been my review of this production of Oedipus. Let us know, as always, what you thought about it in the comments section down below and make sure you're subscribed on YouTube or following me on podcast platforms so you don't miss any of my upcoming reviews. I hope that everyone is staying safe and that you have a stagey day. For 10 more seconds, I'm Minky Jo Theatre. Oh my God. Hey, thanks for watching. Have a stagey day. Subscribe.