A striking new adaptation of the Greek classic, told through extraordinarily intricate choreography and two sets of actors, this production, directed by Satoshi Miyagi, asks fascinating and unconventional questions of the piece.
At a traditional restaurant, a group of men call for women to entertain them as they eat. The women enter, roles are assigned and preparations for the play begin. However, the men are also given roles. It becomes clear that they will voice the women, who will perform the blocking of the play downstage from them. Already Miyagi has incurred myriad questions about the nature of performance, and the commercial nature of theatre and drawn questions of tradition, patriarchal narratives and much, much more into questions, let alone the obvious correlation with the story of Medea.
The play-within-a-play that then takes place draws heavily from Kabuki. Full of tension and release, caricature and exquisitely choreographed movement, the visual language is beautiful but wrought with the experience of the characters and actors. With Kabuki as the leaping-off point, the play blends in a subtle exploration of ritual, tradition and what those structures mean for those who are subject to them. And from here the feast of allegory is vibrant and there is great synthesis between the content of the play, the form of the play and the stylization. Miyagi has constructed a nuanced and provocative discourse on tradition.
Holding all of this up is an exquisite, considered design. A tower of books sits stage right, and along the back of the stage sit the men, consuming their food, understating what can be a tiresome point about who is participating in what role and what it means that Medea, Hedda Gabler, Tess of the D’Urbevilles are all written by men.
If I were to pose one critique, it would be that the play’s conception feels entirely concerned with its form. Now its form is interesting enough and poses enough questions that this is not necessarily a problem. That being said, the play’s headline, statement of purpose, and body are in its form, less in the story itself. But then maybe that isn’t a problem, we have all seen Medea, and I’m not crying out for a traditional production starring some Hollywood actor who can’t act on stage. What I do want more of is what Miyagi is doing. The delicate construction of seemingly contradictory narratives was queer, hard to discern but potent, driven and with an unashamedly feminist approach.
Review by Tom Carter
Medea is the shocking story of a woman who, betrayed and cast aside by her treacherous lover, takes hideous revenge by murdering the children they both love.
During the male-dominated Meiji era imperial ambition masked itself as modernisation. Male diners at a traditional restaurant summon female waitresses for entertainment, and the tragic tale of Medea unfolds as a play-within-a-play. Miyagi uses Euripides’ tragedy to create a searing critique of nationalism, gendered oppression, and colonial violence.
This stunning and internationally acclaimed production, which has travelled to 20 cities and 11 countries, provides a fresh, dynamic take on this timeless story of grief, betrayal, and vengeance.
CAST
Medea (Speaker) – Abe Kazunori
Medea (Mover) – Micari
Jason (Speaker) – Ootaka Kouichi
Jason (Mover) – Honda Maki
Creon (Speaker) – Kato Yukio
Creon (Mover) – Yamamoto Miyuki
Messenger (Speaker) – Yoshiue Soichiro
Messenger (Mover) – Tateno Momoyo
Son – Sakakibaya Yuumi
Nurse – Takii Miki
Geishas (Musicians) – Sakurauchi Yu, Terauchi Ayako, Moriyama Fuyujo, Miyagishima Haruka
Chorus – Daidomumon Yuya, Ouchi Yoneji, Mishima Keita
Directed by Satoshi Miyagi
Original text by Euripides
Music by Hiroko Tanakawa
Surtitles by Japan Society
MEDEA
The Coronet Theatre
18 to 21 June 2025
