Company of Wolves’ presents The Bacchae; a version of Euripides’ classical play that bravely takes the challenge of staging the vivid, multi-layered story as a solo performance. Following the narrative of Dionysus’ birth and the bone-chilling events that follow, it holds a timeless element, as if as an audience member you are truly witnessing an ancient Greek performance.
At the same time, there is no Greek chorus, no props bar the neon lights lining the stage and a singular red rope imitating the bodily violence described. The scarcity is remarkably effective, creating a contemporary feel while preserving the classical element of communicating a story of power and violence through dialogue alone as would have been in the case in Euripides’ day.
The play’s infusion of modernity continues through the show’s clear acknowledgement of the modern tropes of oppression and difference that run through Euripides’ play. It is a truly difficult task to present a narrative entirely through dialogue, and the performance recognises this through a strategic emphasis placed on the elements relevant to current social issues; the victimisation of gender roles broken, trans identities, and even an emphasis on the building of a wall (familiar!) to separate social groups. Moving between the sharpness of traditional Greek and relating to a modern audience, The Bacchae straddles the barrier between the new and old, in and out of the narrative.
The difficulty of the performance continues with the task of commanding a stage with little props for an hour. Ewan Downie rises to the challenge perfectly, seamlessly moving between characters with a wonderful intensity. Though the dialogue is sharp and punchy and the pacing clean, most captivating about Downie’s performance is his body language. The Bacchae is a play infused with despair, majesty, and anger, and Downie communicates this through movement almost entirely.
Downie’s performance refuses to break or halter as the intensity rises towards the final scene, creating a sense of him being almost possessed with the stories, with the voices of the characters. The story occasionally gets lost, and at times there is difficulty in establishing the individual movements of each character. Ultimately however, the show’s appeal lies in the fact it refuses to appease or worry about alienating the audience — it simply is, and the result is a beautifully strange and profound performance.
The Bacchae is running until 24 August at Upstairs at Assembly Roxy.
Buy tickets here.
Image courtesy of Louise Mather, provided to The Student as press material