Guest Review: Little Orestes

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One, two, three, hubris is here…

Divadlo Na zábradlí Praha (Theatre on the Balustrade Prague): Little Orestes

Review by Vladimír Mikulka

In the opening scene of Theatre on the Balustrade’s production Little Orestes, young Orestes sits in a chair- which doubles up as bath tub- and talks with his sister, Electra- an image reminiscent of antiquated plays and old theatrics. We hear Lady Macbeth’s famous lines about blood stained hands, followed by a quotation of Zygmund Baumann’s words of terrifying emptiness coming after death. If one is curious about why both actors’ lips are painted blue, the answer comes surprisingly quickly when a pair of humorously dressed parents suddenly rush onstage, demanding that the children get out of the water, as their lips are turning blue. Orestes receives water wings from his mother, while Hermione, his cousin, is wearing a bright green water ring throughout the show. The family is now ready to chant a nursery rhyme: “One, two, three, hubris is here… catharsis will not appear”.

The opening is revealing of the stylistic somersaults to come. Jan Fric, a distinctive figure of the youngest generation of the Czech theatre directors, never settles for a traditional reading of the classic. A weird little Orestes isn’t surprising; his last year’s production of Tartuffe was staged in a very similar spirit.

At our Agamemnon’s Place

The pet name in the title of the show indicates the director’s eagerness to deal with Oreste’s youth above all. This theory, however, only holds true in the first couple of scenes, which are a cheerful variation of “how did it look at our Agamemnon’s Place”. The retro 1980’s style, with low bourgeois well being- bumpy automatic washer included- dominates the stage. Yet King Agamemnon’s departure to the Trojan War marks a shift, the production gets closer to the real story. Queen Clymestra finds a lover and kills her husband right after his arrival back from the war. Orestes then returns from the exile and with Electra’s help assassinates both his mother and the usurper. Subsequently they attempt to also kill Clytemnestra’s sister Helena and take her daughter Hermione as hostage. The controversial act of revenge ends up almost as an act of terrorism- at least from a contemporary perspective.

In the beginning, the show uses Aeschylus above all, with a couple of lines from Sophocles; the second half depends on Euripides almost exclusively. Nonetheless, the ton is set mainly by the director’s do-it-yourself variations and plot digressions. In spite of that, the production is not just a comedy; the funny scenes are combined with serious ones. Although Jan Fric never forgets to shot down the dramatic passages, he apparently tries to say something deep and important. The problem is, his effort isn’t very consistent or persuasive.

Take it as it comes…

Only a basic story survives from the original work. The universal topic disappear in this production, be it Aeschylus‘ breaking off the vicious circle of blood feud, or Euripides‘ ethical drama about a son who hesitantly obeys divine order taking revenge to the death of his father by killing his mother. In this production, descriptions of war and scenes of terrorist madness become the most dramatic and severe sequences. It would be naive to blame Fric for not being faithful to Euripides, but it is unavoidable to blame him for being too obvious, almost „instant“when he tries to get appellative. His profound scenes might be spectacular, but don’t result from the production as a whole. In spite of all fierce action, the show seems to be somewhat empty and aimless.

The director claims he is telling a story without gods or catharsis. When catharsis is missing, everything goes from bad to worse, and this holds true for this production. What makes this interpretation shallow is Fric’s respect for a general trend- the most overused rule of contemporary adoptions of classics seems to be making the ending as hopeless and dark as possible.The idea of the concluding appearance of (any) god, who puts the world back to the tracks, is completely out of fashion these days.

Jan Fric is strongest in the moments when he unleashes free fantasy and playful irony. This is evident particularly in the opening family scenes, or at the end of the performance, when a terrorist’s furore goes hand in hand with a deliberately silly cabaret atmosphere, accompanied by couple of songs (unfortunately, singing wasn’t always perfect). In the context of such a stylish juxtaposition, the „cabaret“ approach make sense, as does Helen’s histrionic behaviour or the chocolate box sleaziness of Aighistos the usurper (both characters are played by the same male actor).

While Orestes and Electra, the main heroes of the production, seem somehow lost in the shattered action, the modest and overlooked Helen’s daughter Hermione slowly makes her way to the limelight. As the only innocent victim within the story, she gains almost tragic features in the end. On the other hand, the director can’t stop making dull jokes at the expense of actress’s big behind.

The cheapness is part of Fri?’s attitude: he mingles straightforward fun with serious passages and assorted quotations, from the playful or ironic to the snobbish blinking at the well-informed members of the audience. Admirers of his take-it-as-it-comes poetics will be definitely satisfied. And for the rest of us… it’s something that seems to come up in his every production: to enjoy his work (not just Little Orestes) you simply must be ready to forgive him for not going too deep. In spite of that he tries hard to persuade you he is.

Play by Lucie Ferenzová and Jan Fri? (on the motives of Aeschylus, Sophocles and Euripides). Director: Jan Fri?. Set: Mat?j Sýkora. Costumes: Barbora Zelní?ková. Music: Michal Cáb, TICHO DE BEIGE. Premiere 11. 3. 2011

Based upon the article from Respekt 27.3.2025 - http://respekt.ihned.cz/c1-51364930-jedna-dve-hybris-jde

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