Euripides’ Hippolytus is the story of Phaedra’s unrequited love for her stepson Hippolytus, his own hubris, and the tragedy that befalls their house as a result; it is the story of two goddesses, Artemis and Aphrodite, and the terrible human cost of their conflict. The backdrop of the feud between the two godesses is Hippolytus’ refusal to honour Aphrodite, as he delights in chastity.
Katherine Hong’s production transposes Athens into an Oriel quad, but is put on in the original Greek; a bold effort that makes for an interesting and unique viewing experience. The play opens with Aphrodite (Mia Smith) behind the billows of a jauntily-placed and slightly superfluous smoke machine. This prologue sets out the tragedy to unfold in full, and the slighted goddess’ power and vengefulness is well conveyed.
Even by the standards of Greek drama, which is always rooted in one location with most major events happening off stage, Hippolytus is an uneventful play. For the first half, there are no real climactic moments, as the stage is merely set for the ever-looming conclusion. All the same, early scenes between Phaedra (Chloe Cheung) and the Nurse (Jasmine White) play well upon the tension between the two and their ever shifting power dynamics.
The fragile, manic Phaedra and her hard headed Nurse each alternate from grief to calm and back again in strong performances as truths are revealed, misfortunes lamented, plans made and then dashed to pieces. The Chorus, too, makes an impressive contribution to the production. Often, in translations of Greek tragedy, the Chorus is left awkwardly hanging somewhere between traditional, rhythmic sing-song and a more naturalistic approach – as if this group is no different to the other characters of the
play. Staying true to the original Greek, however, Hippolytus’s Chorus embraces a stylised role, their lines delivered in perfect and echoing unison, their bodies contorted into haunting dance – all creating a powerful atmosphere in the choral odes.
Hippolytus (Spencer Klavan) is fluent with the Ancient Greek and lends a certain smugness and swagger to the character, giving him subtlety beyond his almost unbelievable levels of piety. As the play nears its tragic conclusion, the late arrival of Theseus (Dominique David-Vincent) is an emotionally powerful scene, charged with all the regal grandeur you would expect from such an iconic hero. In the same way, the obligatory messenger scene is lifted above the ordinary by the rising intensity of its live backing music (composed by John Young) and the activity of the Chorus on stage to complement the words of the herald himself (Joe Hill). The play ends as it began, with a goddess – this time Artemis (Lydia Kanari-Naish) – leaving the sufferings of its mortal characters under the shadow of the divine.
In the end, this Hippolytus succeeds most in its ambiguity: it is no easy task to pick out an innocent victim. Hippolytus himself may be technically blameless, but his holier-than-thou attitude wins him little sympathy; Phaedra may be destructively vindictive in her scorned love, but it is hard not to pity her surrounded by barrage after barrage of Euripidean misogyny. There is no moral to this story beyond the absolute insignificance of man next to the gods. Imperfect humans err to fulfil the whims of equally imperfect deities. This production may itself have some flaws. For example, there was a technical mishap, which left the English surtitles out of action for one of the most engaging scenes. It nevertheless boasts solid performances, an exceptional live soundtrack, well-honed choreography, and the original Greek cannot help but bring an archaic charm of its own.
