Medeas: Greek Tragedy in California

Euripides’ celebrated character might be a monster, but she is a tragic monster. The challenge to mounting each new adaptation comes in the balancing of audience sympathy and revulsion for her. Alas, poor Ennis gets precious little of the former. He will suffer many indignities without achieving any cathartic release. Greek tragedy comes to California scrub-grass country in Andrea Pallaoro’s Medeas (trailer here), which opens tomorrow in New York.

It takes a while to diagnose the troubles ailing Ennis’s family, because they speak so little. It is not necessarily due to poor lines of communication. His wife Christina is a deaf mute, so idle chatter really isn’t worth the effort. Initially, he seems like a strict, but loving father. Unfortunately, he is also a devout Christian, so he is likely in for some painful cinematic karma.

Indeed, his relationship with Christina has strained to the point she rather openly carries on with the local gas station attendant. In a moment of staggeringly irresponsible behavior, she allows their second oldest son (and the most rebellious) to see her in flagrante delicto. Meanwhile, in the wake of a persistent draught, Ennis’s credit is cut-off, jeopardizing his status as provider.

That probably makes Medeas sound plottier and more passionate than it really is. Ennis and his brood put the “hard” in hardscrabble and the “slow” in slow cinema. It is the sort of film that probably has more shots of the back of Ennis’s head than his eyes. Of course, that also makes it easier to objectify and dehumanize him.

This is definitely one family in search of Terrence Malick. Unfortunately, Pallaoro so thoroughly stacks the deck against Ennis and so defiantly keeps viewers at arm’s length, Medeas has nowhere near the emotional power of Malick protégé A.J. Edwards’ The Better Angels or Malick’s divisive To the Wonder. To their credit, Brían F. O’Byrne and Catalina Sandino Moreno completely inhabit the space their characters live in, yet it is still hard to engage with them. Nonetheless, cinematographer Chayse Irvin makes the thirsty Southern Californian landscape visually stunning, in a harsh, unforgiving way.

Often it is the case quietly deliberate, narratively ambiguous films either connect at a gut level or they don’t. It is always an idiosyncratic thing—one size does not fit all, but Medeas is particularly stingy in the hooks it provides the audience to help pull them through. Despite its conscious awareness of its own importance, it is hard to recommend Medeas beyond a small circle of anti-commercial cineastes when it opens tomorrow (1/16) in New York, at the Village East.

Frigid NY ’10: Medea

Apart from occasional outliers, like the late Dutch director Theo Van Gogh’s five hour modern mini-series retelling, most versions of Euripides’s Medea clock in somewhere around the sixty minute mark. Such a manageable running time makes it a perfect fit for the 2010 Frigid New York Festival, consisting of thirty theatrical productions, all of which have a running time of an hour, or less. Yet, at fifty minutes, No. 11’s production of Medea (trailer here) still has all the betrayal and filicide one expects of the classic Greek tragedy.

Thanks to the barbarian princess Medea, Jason fulfilled his quest for the Golden Fleece. She returned to Corinth with the triumphant hero, expecting to become his wife. However, after bearing him two young sons, he spurns her in order to marry Glauce, the daughter of King Creon. That turns out to be something of a mistake in retrospect. If you don’t know where things go from here, shame on you, but at least the affordable Frigid ticket prices offer an opportunity to catch up with a classic that has been performed throughout Western Civilization for the last 2,400 years or so.

Among Greek tragedies, Medea presents particular challenges. Despite the extreme nature of her revenge, audiences are supposed to identify with Medea, the woman wronged. In this staging, what might sound like an eccentric production design strategy—using marionettes as Medea and Jason’s sons—actually helps temper the audience’s natural revulsion at her harsh actions. Indeed, No. 11’s Medea is certainly distinct among classical revivals, crediting a puppet master: Jen Neads.

It might seem odd at first, but the mix of flesh-and-blood actors, including the Chorus of Corinthian women and two living statues, and puppets works surprisingly well in this Medea (also credit Vanessa Wingerath and Mark Ferguson, who double as puppeteers and supporting players, in the roles of the nurse and tutor, respectively). In the critical lead, Julie Congress is also quite effective as Medea, largely focusing the audience on her pain rather than her rage. We do sympathize with this Medea, even though she is indeed Medea.

Director Ryan Emmons keeps the tragedy moving along briskly, which is probably a necessity, given Frigid’s tight house schedule. Though Frigid’s selection process was reportedly a bit unconventional (choosing the first fifteen applicants to submit proposals and then randomly drawing the next fifteen out of a hat), as an inventive but accessible and ultimately quite faithful adaptation of a true stage classic, Medea is a smart programming choice, nicely rounding out Frigid’s line-up. It plays again at the Kraine Theater in the East Village on February 27th, March 1st, March 4th and March 6th, as Frigid New York continues through March 7th.

(Photo credit: Jen Neads)