Playwright: Euripides, translated by Nicholas Rudall. At: Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave. Tickets: 773-753-4472; www.CourtTheatre.org; $45-$65. Runs through: Dec. 7
Director Charles Newell and translator Nicholas Rudall's admirable new version of Iphigenia in Aulis is one Euripides ( 480-406 BCE ) himself would recognize, and that's good. It's lucid, vigorous and musical without gimmicks or condescension to its audience, and with the moral dilemmas, psychological complexities and ironies of its characters kept intact. Iphigenia in Aulis was Euripides' final play, staged in Athens the year after he died. It coincided with the disastrous final defeat of Athens by Sparta in the long-running Peloponnesian War, making the patriotic basis of Iphigenia's sacrifice so deeply ironic as to become satiric.
Based on Homeric mythology, the play finds the Greek army beached at Aulis, unable to sale for Troy because the goddess Artemis has suppressed the winds. A prophet tells King Agamemnon, the Greek supreme commander, to sacrifice his daughter, Iphigenia, in order to raise the wind. Agamemnon ( Mark L. Montgomery ) agrees, then reverses himself, and then determines he must complete the repugnant sacrifice knowing it will destroy his marriage, his family and his life. His wife, Clytemnestra ( Sandra Marquez ), cannot dissuade him, nor Iphigenia ( Stephanie Andrea Barron ) herself, nor his brother Menelaus ( whose wife, Helen, is the cause of the impending war ), nor the virtuous hero Achilles ( Jordan Brown ). Menelaus ( Michael Huftile ) points out Agamemnon's driving ambition to lead Greek forces in war against Troy, a barbarian threat to Greek society. Finally, Iphigenia voluntarily offers herself as "the savior of Greece" and the "destroyer of Troy," clothing her death in the same words of high patriotism real Athenians had heard for 30 years, and which finally led them close to destruction.
The production is highly classical, despite a veneer of modernity chiefly in scenic designer Scott Davis' industrial loading dock set, and the satiny 1950s-ish party gowns of the chorus in Jacqueline Ferkins' costumes. Still, the set's two playing areas, one above for principals and one below for chorus, keeps with antique Greek practice, while the costumes reflect the ancient homogeneity of the chorus. John Culbert's often-indirect lighting provides a burnished glow, while Andre Pluess' sound ( and uncredited music? ) offers both constant beat and occasional melody.
Rudall's translation is modern, fresh-sounding and impassioned without falling into colloquialisms ( appropriate for Greek comedy but not tragedy ). He and Newell even extract several comic beats, mostly given to an old slave ( Christopher Donahue ). The skilled actors could scale greater heights of emotional fervor as the play builds towards the end, for even in modern English it's not realistic material, but director Newell prefers to let words and situations speak for themselves in an approach to text avoiding bathos or bombast. The resulting clarity of Iphigenia in Aulis is a gift, as is its perfect 95-minute running time.
