Writer and Director: Robert Icke
Robert Icke’s interpretative work continues with Sophocles’ Oedipus. The work of interpretation here could have narrowly focused on the philosophical notion of fate and, of course, the mother-loving. Instead, Icke’s more interested in power, the effect of society on the parent-child relationship and the complexity of love.
Politics is the frame for this reimagining, and while we’re led to assume that the big changes promised from Oedipus’ impending premiership are progressive in nature, they are never explicitly stated. Instead, we’re left to infer what they are from the Obama-esque visual design (courtesy of excellent props work by Chris Marcus and Jonathan Hall), his embrace of his son’s sexuality, and the time he gives to a downtrodden soothsayer who bursts into his campaign office. It would have been all too easy to make the play about hope for a left-leaning government, but by leaving this in the subtext, Icke allows the audience to focus on what he finds more interesting about people while having his political interpretation remain clear.
The play progresses, for the most part, in a fairly straightforward manner, but there are a few standout moments to surprise the crowd. A couple of long moments of silence are allowed as Mark Strong and Lesley Manville’s movement and eye contact take the lead. Those familiar with Sophocles will know how the tale ends, and there’s bravery in the stagecraft here, too, with discomforting action that has some audience members crying out to the stage. This is also down to great performances from Strong and Manville, and they really are the draw here, especially in Manville’s monologues. June Watson’s presence commands every scene she appears in, despite her character being frequently dismissed by Oedipus.
Oedipus has a lot to say about parenthood and childhood and is honest about the difficulties inherent in being the child of successful or very confident parents. This is at its finest in the tense interactions around the dinner table between Phia Saban’s Antigone and Manville’s Jocasta. There are cringe-inducing moments of honesty between them which unfortunately never really get resolved as characters appear happy to storm off briefly and put their emotions behind them. The examination of these family difficulties would be more rewarding if Icke had the confidence to allow the resentment to fester throughout. This is also true of Michael Gould’s Creon who teeters on the edge of resentment but sadly turns coward too swiftly.
Hildegard Bechtler’s set lends a much-needed feeling of realism to the more absurd moments, especially (if accidentally) effective when a diegetic lamp falls to the stage. As much as Icke inserts subtlety into the political reimagining of Oedipus, there is an absurdity to the events of Ancient Greek drama, and it is jarring to see these modern characters come to their tragic realisations. Nevertheless, the show earns its conclusion well, and no character’s end is cheap.
Runs until 4 January 2025
