'Medea': There Will Be Blood

Remaining Performances:

Thursday, July 15, at 8:30 p.m.
Saturday, July 17, at 3 p.m.
Tuesday, July 20, at 6 p.m.
Thursday, July 22, at 10:30 p.m.
Sunday, July 25, at 1 p.m.

They Say: “Euripides’ tragic tale of a woman scorned, as she discovers the necessity of revenge, and its price.”

Trey’s Take: There’s an inevitable emotional punch in the image of an exquisite creature in extremis — so wrap the lovely Melissa Fenton in a gown of snowy feathers and double her over in a paroxysm of agony and rage, and you’ve got a swan in torment. And you’ve got a Medea that’s off to a hell of a start.

(Not gonna recap what Medea‘s about. That’s what the Internet is for.)

Director-designer Michael Burke, of the Indianapolis-based paperStrangers Performance Group, has a fashionista’s eye and a filmmaker’s instinct for economy. His adaptation — sure, it’s Euripides at the core, but it blends J. Michael Walton’s supple translation with elements from Heiner Muller’s postmodern multimedia reboot MedeaMaterial — has played to hosannas at Fringes here and there, and with good cause: It’s a dazzling portrait of a roaringly angry outsider who’s not going to go along to get along.

Fenton’s wrathful sorceress is magnificent, magnetic; Kellen York’s Jason, that retired Argonaut and relentless social climber, comes off as canny and feckless by turns. And that fright-wigged, bustiered-and-gartered chorus, with the unsettling smiles and the eyes alternately hungry and hideously blank? It’s stepped out of some Tim Burton movie to stalk the two principals, standing in for the audience and occasionally suggesting that the public’s endless appetite for celebrity tragedies is part of what keeps bringing them about.

Downplayed here: the usual suggestion that Medea’s shattering choice about those kids has partly to do with the certainty that others will kill them if she leaves them with dad. Punched up: the sense that this woman, a power in her own right among the “barbarian” land of her birth, is an elemental at large among the supposedly civilized Greeks. And a mightily aggrieved one, at that.

See It If: You’ve always been frustrated that the grandest excesses of Greek tragedies traditionally happen offstage. (Because Burke puts ‘em downstage center — vividly.)

Skip It If: You can’t keep your Furies and your Fates straight — or even a brisk hour devoted to infanticide is more than you want your Fringe to include.

Remaining Performances:
Saturday, July 19 @ 5:00 pm
Sunday, July 20 @ 2:00 pm
Wednesday, July 23 @ 9:00 pm
Saturday, July 26 @ Noon

She says: “A story about immigration, alienation, language and meaning, different ways of killing and dying, donuts and ants. Four years after being abandoned by their mother, two Korean-American sisters struggle with growing up. One dreams of being Alice, but Wonderland ain’t no fairy tale. Medea could have told them that.”

Sheffy’s take: When Sue Jin Song is basking in fame and success as a world-famous playwright, I will proudly brag that I remember when CapFringe premiered her virgin play back in aught-eight. Song, a suburban DC-native actress returning from the stages and studios of NYC and LA, finds her voice and makes it sing in a drama about two sisters who have lost their mother and now struggle with their identities while coping with an overbearing, taciturn father. Actually, she finds multiple voices—the perspective of the younger sister who refuses to grow up and accept responsibility, the perspective of the older sister who had responsibility thrust upon her at age 13, as she was expected to be the mother as well as the immaculate daughter. By staging in the round, the effect of multiple perspectives is further magnified by the audience.

In a story pregnant with literary metaphors ranging from Greek drama to the motherless Peter Pan who refuses to grow up, Song builds on the pathos of Medea, a princess, but also an immigrant, forced to take fateful actions when abandoned by her lover. Although the press kit (press kit!?) requested that I not spoil the plot, it was Song’s lyrical narration and dynamic acting that captivated me. As the older sister struggles for balance in her life, we meet her alter-ego who must navigate wonderland when the walls of pressure and responsibility start collapsing in. Sure, everyone needs an alter-ego every now and then, but I have to admit, I wasn’t sure how escaping to a surreal world contributed to the play’s resolution. The blurry line between her reality and fantasy obfuscated some of the plot’s intricacies.

After sweltering in other cramped, uncomfortable Fringe venues, it’s refreshing to enjoy a dedicated theater space. However, access to an arsenal of colored lights and a light board is not license to make the show feel like a rock concert. With accents, tone, and mannerisms, Song is clearly talented enough to embody each character without the help of personalized light motifs.

See it if: You love your mother.

Skip it if: You’re a budding female playwright and dramatic solo performer but you can’t handle new competition in town.