Tag Archives: Euripides

IPHEGENIA

★★★

Arcola Theatre

IPHEGENIA

Arcola Theatre

★★★

“an engaging adaptation that brings the classic text closer to us in the modern day”

Director and adaptor Serdar Biliş says that he wishes to blend fiction with reality and ask piercing questions, especially during a time when one war breaks after another. And what better play to discuss it with than Euripides’ Iphigenia, translated by Stephen Sharkey, who is famous for adapting classic texts into stories that concern our contemporary experiences.

Euripides was famous for focusing his tragedies around the victims of war, usually women, and taking war off the pedestal, he portrayed it for what it really is: bloodshed, pain, loss, not a glittering opportunity for power, conquer and glory. Iphigenia is the eldest daughter of Agamemnon, king of Mycenae and chief commander of the war against Troy. Before the expedition begins, the oracle says that for the wind to blow and for the ships to be able to sail, Agamemnon has to sacrifice Iphigenia; he needs to choose between his own flesh and blood and an army that expects him to lead.

In this adaptation, there’s a merge of the original storyline with interviews of real women who talk about the father’s role, parenthood and war, sharing stories that make our skin crawl and our eyes tear up. Shown in video projections designed by Enrico Aurigemma, the rawness of these experiences shifts the focus towards those whose suffering is often overlooked, as well as reinforces the anti-war message that Biliş wants to convey. Something similar is attempted by the actors breaking character to narrate their own family narratives. It’s not as efficient compared to the projected interviews and it feels slightly forced, occasionally breaking up the pacing of the scenes.

The cast consists of an incredibly strong trio. Simon Kunz, Agamemnon, is exemplary, as he manages to hit all the marks of the king’s decision making, doubt and eventual giving in to the glory of war against his wife’s threats, his daughter’s imploring and his own father instincts. In the opening, he comes onstage as an actor and does a pre-set intro which, though a playful way to provide the exposition, is such a cliché and overdone, but Kunz’s energy and smooth comedy skills warm you up to it.

Indra Ové, playing Iphigenia’s mother Clytemnestra, is a sight to behold. She’s graceful, yet powerful, like a queen ought to be, and fights for her daughter’s life like a lioness. Confronting Agamemnon and using any tactic she can to dissuade him from sacrificing Iphigenia, Ové shows an incredible range that sets your heart ablaze.

Our titular character is played by Mithra Malek, whose sweet and calm presence complements her parents’ fiery interactions. Her most important moments are overlaid with the live singing by musician and composer Kalia Lyraki, which doesn’t allow Malek to fully reach the audience. Lyraki is a beautiful addition, her live music adding to the emotional depth to a mesmerising degree. And it’s so touching to have a Greek creative as part of the team. However, it does distract from Malek’s performance, so it’d be better if the monologues and singing didn’t coincide.

Lighting designer Catja Hamilton handles the changes in the tone, narration and the jump between actors speaking versus characters speaking efficiently, yet allowing for a creative vision to come forth. Playing with hints of blue, swift blackouts and warm undertones, she makes the story clearer, in a subtle way that doesn’t take away from what’s happening onstage.

One of the weakest points is surprisingly the finale, when the sacrifice takes place. The plain miming and simplistic movement used while Agamemnon explains to Clytemnestra what happened to their beloved daughter, makes the moment feel unconvincing and doesn’t take a clear path either towards the rage caused by the atrocity of the situation or towards the miraculous and absolving nature of Iphigenia’s actual fate.

Nevertheless, it’s an engaging adaptation that brings the classic text closer to us in the modern day. Circling around family ties and clashes and supported by an excellent cast, Iphigenia comes at a perfect time to remind us to choose humanity and love over ideals that serve no one, but those who are in power and abuse it at our expense.



IPHEGENIA

Arcola Theatre

Reviewed on 13th April 2026

by Stephanie Christodoulidou

Photography by Ikin Yum


 

 

 

 

IPHEGENIA

IPHEGENIA

IPHEGENIA

MEDEA

★★★★

The Coronet Theatre

MEDEA

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★

“beautifully atmospheric”

Nine anonymous women slowly walk onto the stage, one by one, each with a sack cloth over their head and their headshot photo hanging around their neck. They move slowly, but precisely. In total silence. Some sort of symbolism is immediately established. A crone-like figure shuffles into position in the corner and watches. Suddenly a rabble of boisterous men burst onto the scene, dressed like judges in black gowns. We are in a restaurant. Or is it a brothel? The women are being picked out by the men as they remove their veils. We realise that they are being cast in an impromptu rendition of a play – Euripides’ “Medea”. It is an uncomfortable casting process. The women are mute and compliant while the men relish the prospect like shady, backstreet clients.

“Medea” is then played out in full as a play-within-a-play. Directed by Satoshi Miyagi, it is faithful to the original, two-thousand-year-old story. Without changing a word, however, Miyagi has ingeniously given it fresh meaning by placing it in late nineteenth century Japan. More specifically the Meiji period – often referred to as the Meiji Restoration. A period of rapid progress and modernisation but also a return to imperialism and colonialism. It was still a patriarchal society that reinforced male authority while stunting women’s rights and limiting their education. ‘The world despises intelligent women’ we are told. In this context, the brutal tale of a woman’s revenge takes on a shocking resonance, particularly during Miyagi’s climactic moments which acts as a cool but furious, and bloodstained epilogue to Euripides’ original conclusion.

The piece seems to run in slow motion, yet the pace never drags. We have the ‘speakers’ and the ‘movers’. The dominant males speak the roles in Japanese while surtitles are projected onto the back wall. Emotive and dramatic, their words belie the stillness of the performers. Interestingly, the translated captions contain far fewer words than are spoken, as though the essence is all we need and the actress’ skills in mime and movement are more than enough to tell the story. A bit of a problematic story in this day and age. Medea’s cold desire for revenge against her unfaithful husband, Jason, doesn’t sit well. Who is going to sympathise with a mother who murders her children to harm their father? In Miyagi’s version, Medea has only one son – but this doesn’t dampen the effect. It’s hard to further the feminist cause with such a parable, but Miyagi pulls focus away from Medea’s individual actions and we begin to perceive the injustices and humiliations that shaped her and her behaviour. Yes, it is a myth, but the historical setting gives an unfortunate authenticity that tries to explain the character’s intentions, but still cannot disguise the ugly truth.

The show is nevertheless beautifully atmospheric. Hiroko Tanakawa’s percussive score rises and dips in perfect time to the dialogue, played live by the women of the company, giving additional voice to their silenced emotions. Koji Osako’s lighting shifts from shadows to blood-red shrouds that evoke the moods and settings on Junpei Kiz’s simple set. A towering bookcase dominates – used to dramatic effect in the closing moments of the play.

The cultural comments that are being underlined are not always clear, particularly to a Western audience. It is definitely worth giving yourself a quick crash course on Japan’s Meiji Era. But even without, this is a thrilling rendition of the ancient Greek tragedy. The sixteen cast members give precisely orchestrated, yet fluid, performances. The surtitles are often unnecessary; such is the expertise of these performers in allowing the story to evolve visually and musically. It can be disturbing. It isn’t easy. But Miyagi’s interpretation is powerful, while also being rather beautiful to look at. A rare feat to accomplish.



MEDEA

The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 18th June 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Takuma Uchida

 

 

 



 

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

EINKVAN | ★★★★★ | May 2025
PANDORA | ★★★★ | February 2025
STRANGER THAN THE MOON | ★★★ | December 2024
U-BU-SU-NA | ★★★★★ | November 2024
THE BELT | ★★★★★ | September 2024
THE BECKETT TRILOGY | ★★★★★ | June 2024
THE YELLOW WALLPAPER | ★★★ | September 2023
RHYTHM OF HUMAN | ★★★★★ | September 2023
LOVEFOOL | ★★★★ | May 2023
DANCE OF DEATH | ★★★★★ | March 2023

 

 

MEDEA

MEDEA

MEDEA