ecrire

here is my review for the play we had to watch in theater class on friday. yes, i'm turning this in for a grade.

i live dangerously. with my entourage ;D

Oedipus Rex

I know where Michael Jackson got the idea for his plastic surgery. He took Jocasta's nose, Oedipus's cheekbones, and the shepherd's hair and tweaked it, just a bit, to find his perfect look.

Much like Michael Jackson, I found Oedipus Rex painful to look at and mostly a joke.

The costumes and masks were outlandish and over the top, the acting was non-existant, and in all, I felt that something had disappeared long, long ago that would never be recaptured. That is the spirit of the ancient Greeks, and it, and only it, has the right to moan and thrash about. The actors of Oedipus Rex felt they had this right, but they were sorely mistaken. They took a fond memory, an idea of greatness that we could all hold in our minds, and they tried to bring it into our modern world. Like much else, it didn't translate well. Perhaps the previously mentioned moaning and screaming meant something to the ancient Greeks, but I was convinced that the poor actors had eaten a bad bit of lunch and had terrible indigestion. I also thought it was wrong to portray every single important character as suffering from narcolepsy; I'm sure that's what it was because they all kept falling over.

The fog machines were an excellent touch, and I couldn't help but hope that Jocasta, Oedipus, and the shepherd would merge into one and don a single glove on a bony hand and break out into "Thriller." The songs they did break out into were tuneless and really quite entertaining, if you like that sort of thing.

This wasn't my first time to have the honor of watching a delightful little play molded into an hour and some odd minutes of giggles and horror. No, I got to watch this very same version of Oedipus Rex in high school. I think it's better the second time around. That way, I can really appreciate all the moaning and screaming and wild gesticulating. It adds so much. And this time around, I was able to catch about 10 words of what the chorus was saying, which is double what I understood the first time. It's like hearing heavy metal for the first time ever; you know something is going on, and you're straining to understand, but it's just out of reach. And then, when the song is over, you realize that maybe it wasn't worth the effort after all. Of course, the actors of Oedipus have beaten heavy metal in one aspect; I doubt Metallica could ever roll their r's so effectively. Very Greek indeed.

I can appreciate what they were trying to accomplish. It's a very admirable thing to try and recreate the play exactly as the ancient Greeks had seen it. But then, I have to marvel at the ingenuity of the Greeks. Metallic paint, six inch fingernails, plastic masks... what marvelous accomplishments! All while they were inventing democracy! And then I remember that no, this wasn't how the ancient Greeks saw the play. It's how the director saw the play. And it's how I saw the play ruined.

The Greeks had one thing down exactly right- some things are much better off kept in your head and imagination, instead of trying to act it out on stage. I only wish Oediups Rex could have stayed in my head where it was good and enjoyable. Now all I can think about when I hear "Oedipus" is Michael Jackson. Oh Jacko.


life is good again.

love
lindsey.