By: Euripides ( adapted from Ian Johnston's translation )
At: BackStage Theatre Company
at Chopin Theatre
Phone: 312-683-5347; $12-$15
Runs through: July 23
BY SCOTT C. MORGAN
The murdering mother Medea is back in town, and this time she's partially lashing out in American Sign Language. That's right, BackStage Theatre Company's modernized take on Medea adds an extra language dimension to the spiteful sorceress' vicious breakup with her two-timing ex, Jason.
It's a noble gesture that BackStage is reaching out to under-represented audiences and stage performers. Director Michael Pacas is also brave with his modern-dress take on an ancient Greek tragedy, bringing out modern relevancies and nuances.
Alas, Pacas' directorial concept for Medea doesn't completely gel. It's not the fault of hearing-impaired performer Chris Lopez ( who gives an impassioned turn as Jason ) but the surrounding performers, who only sometimes use sign language while simultaneously speaking in the show. An all-or-nothing approach would have been preferable, since any hearing-impaired audience members would need extra interpreters to feel fully included.
Lopez's Jason is wonderfully interpreted by Whitney Hayes' Messenger and Eric Paskey and Jill Slattery as Jason and Medea's grown children ( giving the usually silent duo a stake in their parents' breakup ) . Unfortunately, the rest of BackStage's Medea suffers, since many of the other actors' performing skills are not up to snuff.
Dressed in a white pantsuit with henna tattoos, Karen Yates' stolid and phony take on Medea looks more like a bored trophy wife into New Age spiritualism instead of an immigrant mother so emotionally unhinged that she's willing to kill her own children. Yates captures Medea's composed calculation when facing her enemies, but the crazed desperation necessary for Medea feels false and put on in Yates' hands.
Some of the other actors in smaller roles come off like they're just reciting lines when giving exposition ( Seth Zurer's Tutor in Kinko's worker khakis being an exception ) . The chorus of Jules Lambert, Kerensa Peterson and Keta Roth ( in Kerith Wolf's stylish toga-inspired gear ) is a mixed bunch that only sometimes scales the necessary heights of outrage and passion.
Director Pacas never gives an exact sense of what era or country we're in, which might explain the actors' inability to become fully comfortable in their roles. Heath Hays' lovely marbleized column set with two ominous wooden doors and a gurgling water font suggests a neoclassically influenced Los Angeles mansion, making one wish Pacas could have explored our country's current xenophobia toward immigrants in Euripides' classic framework.
So BackStage's Medea feels like a noble, if not completely fulfilled, interpretation that aims to be inclusive. No doubt a more forceful directorial vision and actors more in tune with their characters' primal outrage would have made this Medea into something more than its current mishmash of impassioned gesturing and lukewarm emotion.