Blood Bath

By T.E. Kalem

MEDEA

Adapted from Euripides by Robinson Jeffers

Zoe Caldwell has received a Tony nomination for her performance in Medea, and in this paltry season, no one would begrudge her that. Yet the accolade outshines the achievement. Caldwell's interpretation of the role is singular and peculiarly self-indulgent.

With all the formidable artistry of her craft, the actress fashions a character of insatiable sensuality. If this production had a subtitle, it could be By Lust Possessed. Caldwell's gestures are endlessly provocative. Her hands urgently stroke her upper thighs; when she slips to the floor, she writhes orgiastically. True, she has been driven half mad since her royal lover Jason (Mitchell Ryan) cast her off in favor of King Creon's daughter. But she seems to miss past days of glory less than past nights in Jason's bed.

Caldwell's most moving and Euripidean moments come when she cradles and fondles the two young sons she has borne Jason, then steels herself to kill them in a monstrous act of revenge against their father. From moment to moment she is wretchedly torn between maternal love and a scorned woman's hate.

Magnificently true to the spirit of Euripides is Judith Anderson--as well she should be. She acted the title role in the adaptation's memorable 1947 premiere. At 84, Anderson plays Medea's redoubtable old nurse and reaches a peak with the oncoming slaughter of the innocents, vainly attempting to thwart the horror with chilling words of prophecy.

Director Robert Whitehead, who produced Medea in 1947, has not fired up other key actors. Paul Sparer's Creon is more like a pompous chairman of the board than a Corinthian king, and Ryan's Jason is a callow marital climber rather than the hero who brought home the Golden Fleece. The Grecian temple designed by Ben Edwards has a brooding, darksome majesty. A pity so much of this production lacks it.

--By T.E. Kalem

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so viewer discretion is required.