Oedipus (Wyndham’s Theatre, London)
Verdict: success and myth
The Duchess (of Malfi) (Trafalgar Theatre, London)
Verdict: Exterminate!
Suddenly, incest is all the rage in the West End. Two surprising examples have arrived this week alone. One stars Mark Strong and Lesley Manville, in a new version of the king of Thebes, Oedipus, who kills his father and loves his mother.
The other sees former Doctor Who Jodie Whittaker in a misguided reworking of John Webster’s gruesome Jacobean tragedy, The Duchess of Malfi, in which the titular Duchess is sexually assaulted by her twin brother.
Both arise from Alexander Zeldin’s modern version of the story of Antigone, Oedipus’s daughter, The Other Place, which premiered at the National Theater last week.
First, Oedipus. The problem with Robert Icke’s reimagining is that it turns the great man into a Westminster politician and requires too much suspension of disbelief. Togas on suits don’t work. A modern, intelligent world in which no one has heard of the Oedipus myth is for the birds.
Mark Strong and Lesley Manville in Oedipus at Wyndham’s Theater in London
Manville and Strong attend a press night on October 15. When they are alone, they are sensational. Without his suit, Strong no longer bores anyone with his thoughts on power, fatherhood, and personal morality.
We are supposed to be impressed by this prime minister-in-waiting, whom we meet on videotaped election campaigns spouting turgid platitudes, uninterrupted by hackers and reverent supporters. Campaigning on a “change” ticket, he is as bland and out of touch as his M&S suit.
The original, by Sophocles, breaks out like a bad smell. The blind prophet Tiresias (Samuel Brewer) appears as a disturbed wanderer in a campaign office, speaking of “prophecies.” Surely he must be a paranoid nutcase known to the police.
And should Oedipus’ children, including the great moralist Antigone, be reduced to the cliché of sullen adolescents? But if ancient and modern go hand in hand like a horse and marriage, the story eventually functions as a portrait of marital collapse.
When alone, Strong and Manville are sensational. Without his suit, Strong no longer bores anyone with his thoughts on power, fatherhood, and personal morality.
And Manville gets rid of his politeness to face the surprise of discovering that she is the wife and mother of Oedipus. Her account of an abusive relationship with her late first husband (Oedipus’s father) is a Gothic chill. But the memory of giving birth to her son… when she was only 13 years old, has yet to come.
All of this is complicated by a palpable sense of the partner’s sexual hunger for each other. They make a formidable pair, plumbing the depths of the sobering message of antiquity. Strong’s form, frozen in terror as she listens to the story of her origins, will be no easier to forget than Manville’s primal scream or her skin crawling with self-disgust.
As representatives of our times, Icke’s writings make them both feel like unremarkable functionaries. However, Strong and Manville’s pedigree will likely ensure this show is a box office hit.
The Duchess (of Malfi) is a different pot of vice that could have been better titled Doctor Who and the Borgias.
In Zinnie Harris’s grim 2019 expungement of Webster’s misogynistic tragedy, Whittaker’s vapid Duchess is held captive and murdered by her brothers. I’ve always struggled to make sense of the plot, but thanks to this I’ve succeeded… and I wish I hadn’t.
The Duchess (of Malfi). Jodie Whittaker stars in a misguided reworking of John Webster’s gruesome Jacobean tragedy
The incest angle is the torch carried by the Duchess her twin Ferdinand (Rory Fleck Byrne). He triggers a bloodbath and also kills his depraved Catholic cardinal brother (Paul Ready).
Why Whittaker accepted the role is a mystery. Maybe she wanted to put galaxies between her and Doctor Who. But, ironically, Tom Piper’s set buries her in what looks like a 1960s black-and-white television studio with an elevated catwalk.
In Harris’s leaden production, she is vapidly and inexplicably smitten with Joel Fry as her dim-witted, distraught servant. I couldn’t get out fast enough. Where’s a Dalek when you need one?
Oedipus is booking until January 4th. The Duchess (of Malfi) until December 20.
Caged Brody shines in a true story about justice gone wrong
The fear of 13 (Donmar Warehouse, London)
Verdict: Alfa Brody
Adrien Brody is the latest Hollywood star to come to London to show us his acting skills. And what excellent skills they are, in the Nick Yarris version.
Heartbreaking memoir of her incarceration on America’s death row for 22 years, adapted for the stage by Lindsey Ferrentino.
Death row dramas are rarely funny and usually have a fixed outcome. This, however, is a redeeming thread; and even surprisingly playful.
But first the pain… as Brody’s Yarris (above) tells his side of the story to a doctoral student and death penalty abolitionist, Jackie Shaffer (Nana Mensah).
Yarris was a Philadelphia kid who went off the rails. While in custody for assaulting a police officer after being stopped for driving a stolen motor with drugs, he had the stupid idea of cutting a deal by pretending to be involved in an unsolved rape and murder case he had read about in the newspaper. newspaper.
His reward was a capital sentence and a trip to death row, where prisoners are prohibited from speaking and are often beaten by sadistic guards.
In performance, Ferrentino’s script becomes an illustrated monologue in which narrative is the predominant theme: stories of other prisoners, the story of Shaffer’s falling in love, and the story of Yarris’s exoneration.
It’s obviously a passion project for Brody, who won an Oscar for his role in 2002’s The Pianist. At 51, he’s still as thin as an ironing board, with that magnificent beak. He’s sweet, funny, vulnerable and unpredictable.
Mensah is also excellent as the student who asks Yarris questions, while the rest of the cast offers bouts of violence, surreal improvisations and a cappella singing.
It’s thoughtfully directed by Justin Martin (Stranger Things), and Miriam Buether’s design recreates death row with white tiles, floor drains, and a viewing gallery overlooking a stage no larger than Yarris’ cell. If Brody fell, he would land in the audience. That might appeal to some fans, but it actually deserves more room to shine.
Until November 30.
