As the gifted Anna Jahjah comments in her program notes, Anouilh does not offer a firm basis for Antigone’s solitary, valorous and futile act of resistance against the state other than her absolute certainty that she must resist. In this sectarian setting Antigone does not have, as did Sophocles’s protagonist, the backing of divine law. Because we trust Antigone (a lovely and convincing Ellen Williams), despite her cantankerous attitude, we feel rather than understand that Antigone’s stance is in some way validated by human aspiration.
That she is young, untutored in the world’s machinations, is emphasised by Antigone’s need for her nurse’s affection (a suitably garrulous Kirsty Jordan) and by her sister Ismene’s (an elegant Kate Fraser) protective attitude. She repeatedly references her edenic childhood and closeness to nature suggesting that perhaps she has an intuitive knowledge of what is good or true. This suggestion was given support by Jahjah’s innovative introduction of a French-speaking Chorus of the Young (from Blacktown Girls’ High), instead of the more traditional Chorus of Elders. The fresh voices of the girls and young faces contrasted effectively with the world-weariness of their words.
Because Antigone does persist in her conviction that her brother must be buried, Creon (a very persuasive Neil Modra) is compelled to argue his case at length. He projects well as the dear uncle who gave Antigone her first doll and as a genial, concerned father of her fiancé Haemon (a convincingly in-love Philippe Klaus). With avuncular charm he skillfully undermines the preference we would like to have for Antigone’s idealism by a mixture of pragmatism and rationalisation, through revelations of Polyneices’s poor moral character and mockery of Antigone’s affectionate fantasies.
The more Creon talks the more he reveals a relativist world, a world inhabited by replicas of the guard, Jonas (an appealing Gerry Sont), ready to serve, cheerfully indifferent, splendidly opportunist, varied by an occasional naive recruit (Karl Kinsella) and where ultimately not even family feeling is valued. His sidelined wife, Eurydice (Roslyn Blake) is shown steadily knitting and remote from the entire action of the play which ultimately is to deprive her of both her son and her life.
The Leader (a most compelling Kirsty Jordan) of the Chorus distances us from the action reminding us of the inevitability of classical tragedy and at the same time the impossibility of fitting what we are seeing into that same elevated form and its transcendent values. This rather anarchic Antigone wreaks personal havoc and while we may be tempted to pity Creon for the loss inflicted upon him by her intransigence, his almost immediate recovery and return to business is completely alienating. He himself has told us how little he thinks of “the kitchen of politics” and cannot attribute his resumption of duty to self-sacrificial nobility. We are left to consider what will be the future of his little uncomprehending page (Aurora Kinsella) in such a world.
The apparent simplicity of the set (construction, Gerry Sont) creates an appropriately stark and deliberately constrictive background. A very clever touch is the use of a large wheeled disc which turning slowly supports the Chorus during the prologue evoking the wheel of destiny so central to Greek tragedy. The disc is readily transformed into the wheel of state and finally comes full circle to emphasise the lonely fragility of Antigone as she faces her death.
As usual, the mechanics of production were handled appropriately and effectively by Théâtre Excentrique’s team (Light Design/Laura Kelly, Light Operator/Blake Feltis, Costume Designer/Yvonne Hocothee), and once again Nadia Raskovaloff has produced a truly outstanding flyer that typifies the vivacity and originality of this excellent company.
