★★★★

“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.

STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★

“when it does come together, the result is musical magic”

Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s 1970 documentary film, ‘Let It Be’, used two film cameras that rolled from the moment the first Beatle appeared each day and continued recording until the last one had left. It wasn’t the first film of its kind, and it certainly hasn’t been the last. But it was appraised for its fly-on-the-wall glimpses into the dynamics and tensions that would lead to the band’s break-up. But criticised, too, for its indulgence. Such exercises can indeed be dull and draggy and are often only rescued by the subjects’ celebrity and enjoyed by the fans. It is therefore quite a risk to construct a fictitious band, give it the same treatment, and then unleash it onto a theatre audience as a three hour play with music.

“Stereophonic” follows an unnamed British-American rock band on the cusp of superstardom as they struggle to record their new album. Set in the mid-seventies, it takes place solely within the confines of a recording studio in California. The time and place are both beautifully evoked by David Zinn’s nostalgically perfect set complete with its working reel-to-reel deck and analogue desk. Enver Chakartash’s choice of costume is equally in tune with the post-hippy, West-coast vibe. The band has a strong resemblance to Fleetwood Mac, not necessarily in appearance but in its line up and relationships within. A lawsuit filed by the author of the Fleetwood Mac memoir, which was settled out of court, didn’t dampen the play’s success on Broadway last year, breaking the record for the most Tony Award nominations.

There is no getting away from the uncanny comparisons to the real-life band. In writer David Adjmi’s thinly veiled counterpart we follow the shenanigans of married couple bassist Reg (Zachary Hart) and keyboardist/vocalist Holly (Nia Towle); longtime partners guitarist/vocalist Peter (Jack Riddiford) and singer Diana (Lucy Karczewski); and drummer Simon (Chris Stack). It is quite a long time before we get to sample some of the music they are making, composed by Will Butler – former member of the indie rock band Arcade Fire. It takes a long time for anything to happen. In fact, the play takes a long time. Period. Or rather, full stop – in honour of the three-to-two majority of British members in the band. The performances, however, do allow us to get to know the characters quite swiftly. Riddiford plays the control freak who surreptitiously adopts the role of producer and is abusive to his bandmates and his partner, Diana. Karczewski’s performance as Diana is the most gripping, as she pieces together her confidence despite Peter’s damaging swipes, eventually conquering all and outgrowing the collective success by securing a lucrative solo contract. Hart’s Reg epitomises the coke-addled bassist who is more interesting in his brief flashes of sobriety than his shouty, shallow jibes. Towle’s Holly is torn between rejecting and accepting her husband’s behaviour, finding solace in her music and her friendship with Diana. In the midst is Stacks as the drummer, Simon, not just the backbeat to the band but the backbone to the line-up. Peacemaker and therapist, but even so, not averse to occasionally throwing his own tantrums.

It is a world of booze, cocaine, coffee and cigarettes. Tempers fray frequently (too frequently), but everyone is exhausted by the recording sessions that constantly creep into the early hours. We occasionally feel the same. The stop-start frustrations in the sound booth often cut short the beautiful moments of the music. And inside jokes can outstay their welcome. How long does it really take to tune a snare drum? We are furiously willing the actors along in their attempts to settle artistic differences – but when it does come together, the result is musical magic. Butler’s compositions perfectly suit the setting and are beautifully performed by the cast. Both Karczewski and Towle have the voices that can easily give Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie a run for their money.

No recording studio can function without the engineers. Eli Gelb and Andrew R. Butler are Grover and Charlie, the ill-fated, tech-wizards at the console who are often the uncredited heroes of the day. In this respect, Gelb and Butler are the saviours of the show too. A breath of fresh air, they provide the comic relief that is much needed, and also the most memorable and believable characters. Hilariously absurd but in tune with the precariousness of their position. Dismissive of the egos they are working with but knowing how to pitch their servility just right to keep their jobs. Until they’ve had enough, that is.

There is no denying that this is a microscopic and detailed look at the blood, sweat and tears of genius. Art isn’t easy. It takes time. “Stereophonic” certainly latches onto that requirement. A literal translation of the drawn-out process of making an album. There are moments of pure genius in this play, but they are buried under the weight of self-indulgence and multiple takes.

MEDEA

The Coronet Theatre

★★★★

“beautifully atmospheric”

MEDEA

The Coronet Theatre

Reviewed on 18th June 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Takuma Uchida

Last ten shows reviewed at this venue:

MEDEA

MEDEA

MEDEA

STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

★★★

“when it does come together, the result is musical magic”

STEREOPHONIC

Duke of York’s Theatre

Reviewed on 14th June 2025

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Marc Brenner

Previously reviewed at this venue:

Stereophonic

Stereophonic

Stereophonic

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