MEDEA V MEDEA
MEDEA V MEDEA - the NTLive version (in cinemas) 2014; and the Kate Mulvany/Anne-Louise Sarks version Downstairs Belvoir in 2012. Photography by Heidrun Lohr of Blazey Best and the boys in 2012.
The most recent National Theatre Live offering (“live” in early September then re-screened last weekend and this week, early October) was the hugely acclaimed Medea starring Helen McCrory in the title role in a new version of Euripides’ original by Ben Power. Given many four and five star reviews by the UK press, it was directed by Carrie Cracknell and co-starred the wonderful Michaela Coel as the Nurse and not so wonderful Danny Sapani as the deserting husband Jason. (Hard to imagine Medea being so distraught at being dumped by such a sack of potatoes.)
Then there’s the downright wooden portrayal of Kreon by Martin Turner and a most peculiar Chorus, choreographed by Lucy Guerin and apparently in another (dance) production altogether. Add to that, the two level set of palace above and forest below with vast empty space out front (design Tom Scutt, lighting Lucy Carter) which was also peculiar, splitting as it did the two worlds but in doing so, causing maximum distraction for minimum use value.
You can probably tell that I wasn’t in the “I’ll give it 5 stars” camp. That’s because all the time - well, a lot of the time - I found myself thinking about the extraordinary re-vision of Medea undertaken by Kate Mulvany in 2012. At the time I recall saying (although not in the review which is in the archive here and well worth a read, by the way) that what she - and Anne-Louise Sarks as director and co-creative collaborator - had done with the play meant that no straightforward Medea-as-she-devil reading of it would be even halfway satisfactory ever again.
And definitely not one that has Medea starting out with her volume swiped up to 9 on the scale of 1-10. The very obvious problem with doing that is there is nowhere else to go, particularly when we know things are only going to get worse, so there’s precious little space or reason to take the levels down a few notches. The result is hugely dramatic at first, then it’s just more of the same. Being constantly belted over the head vocally and emotionally is wearying and, ultimately, boring. And yes, I was bored.
The Sarks-Mulvany Medea, however, delivered nuance upon nuance, with breathtaking emotional shading and fine distinctions between players, script and motivation. By turning it inside out and focusing on the children - and by casting the heartbreaking and brilliant Blazey Best in the title role - the play’s creators made sense of the mother’s plight and rage. Her response to Jason’s remarrying into another royal house (which would inevitably lead to the murder of her sons) was both credible and historically and politically logical; and therefore there was no need to scrabble around looking for a “feminist” re-reading, or to explain why she was mad (she wasn’t) and hideously cruel (she wasn’t that either). In other words, the ATYP-Belvoir Medea made sense of the play in a way that the NT-Ben Power version just does not.
It’s no secret that I’m a big fan of Kate Mulvany’s work and this experience - at the Chauvel this week - underlines once again why that’s so and not about to change. What a pity that the estimable Carrie Cracknell didn’t see the Mulvany-Sarks Medea before setting out on her own melodramatic journey. If she had I like to think she would have made some very different choices. Sadly, there’s no costly filmed record of the production, but the Sydney Theatre Awards gave it the unprecedented accolades of Best New Australian Work, Best Newcomers (the sons Joseph Kelly and Rory Potter), Best Actress, Best Direction and Best Mainstage Production - and it was up against a shortlist of three other brilliant productions: The Boys (Griffin), Les Liaisons Dangereuses (STC), and Thyestes (Belvoir-Sydney Festival-Hayloft-Carriageworks and Malthouse).
