KILL YOUR FATHER

Etcetera Theatre

★★★

“breathes new life into Medea, delivering a full throttle assault on patriarchy”

Medea has shocked audiences for centuries by defying gender norms and seizing male agency. But as the archetypal ‘woman scorned’ and a ‘dangerous foreigner’, Medea has also perpetuated sexual and cultural stereotypes. Enter ‘Kill Your Father’, a modern Black feminist reinterpretation reclaiming the narrative and rewriting the myth. Unflinchingly provocative, it confronts women’s struggle with power and patriarchy head on, though some elements could be sharper to meet their full potential.

Medea finds herself in a foreign land, surrounded by women in exile. With neighbours from Syria, Cuba, America, she fights to raise her daughters alone after husband Jason abandons her for another woman. But their world is marked by war, unplanned pregnancy, sexual violence and more at the hands of men. Medea won’t submit, urging us to ‘change the narrative’ and ‘kill your father’ in defiance of patriarchal oppression – until she chooses another way to protect her daughters.

Based on Euripides’s Medea, ‘Kill Your Father’ makes its English language world debut having been translated and adapted by Marcio Beauclair and Matthew Romantini from Black Brazilian writer Grace Passô’s original Portuguese play, Mata Teu Pai. ‘Kill Your Father’ breathes new life into Medea, delivering a full throttle assault on patriarchy. True to its title, Medea’s rage shifts fully onto her husband, pointedly sparing his new female partner. Medea’s children, originally male symbols of enduring patriarchal structures, become daughters tasked with dismantling those structures. It leans into Medea’s narrative by staging it as a one woman show. It embraces Medea as a foreigner, interrogating the gendered dynamics of colonialism. The language is visceral and richly poetic, though with an occasional loftiness that makes me wonder what we’re losing in translation.

Beauclair’s direction is provocative and fiercely feminist. The one-woman structure draws us deeply into unsettling situations. There is arresting visual imagery, with a baby girl reduced to slab of meat and a giant vulva containing the secrets to life and death. The performance is committed but somewhat relentless in intensity; scene breaks provide relief but more nuance would be welcome to give the ending more punch. Projecting recent scandals onto Medea’s readily outstretched skirt offers commentary, though the imposition of male narratives risks diluting the feminist focus. The biggest issue is pacing which could be tightened to sharpen tension at key moments.

Renato Baldin’s set design uses minimalism to maximum effect. The colourful vulva, while underutilised, establishes a confrontational, unapologetic tone. Though the opening misfires as a faulty handheld projector – accompanied by frantic clicking and sighs from the operator – dampens the powerful start.

Brandon Gonçalves’ lighting design burns red or hot white during Medea’s powerful monologues before cooling off between scenes. A diffused downstage spotlight invites fourth wall confessionals while a bold overhead beam crowns the finale with flair.

Julián Henao’s sound design impresses with seamless heartbeats, barking and thunderclaps perfectly timed for impact. Electro punk interludes infused with Brazilian rhythms honour the author’s roots.

Baldin’s striking costume design centres on a white wedding dress bound by blood red cords. The same cords bind the actor’s hair and wrist, though doubling them could heighten the sense of restraint. Bare feet root Medea to the land she claims.

Maria Paula Carreño-Martínez’s performance bristles with ferocious intensity. Early technical hiccups – a restart and a prop failure – briefly unsettle her rhythm, but she soon commands the stage with assured authority. The scene exploring female pleasure could do with a touch more softness and sensuality to contrast with later scenes, but overall she delivers an imposing, edgy Medea.

Presenting Medea like you’ve never seen her before, ‘Kill Your Father’ is raw, fierce and commanding. Despite some stumbles, ultimately it stands testament to the power of women reclaiming their narratives.

KILL YOUR FATHER

Etcetera Theatre

Reviewed on 5th November 2025

by Hannah Bothelton

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CHECKMATE | ★★★ | September 2025

HOSTAGE | ★★★★ | March 2024

DEAD SOULS | ★★½ | August 2023

FLAMENCO: ORIGENES | ★★★★ | August 2023

KILL YOUR FATHER

KILL YOUR FATHER

KILL YOUR FATHER