Theatre review: Bacchae

Long before he even announced he was leaving the National Theatre I was arguing that RuNo should be succeeded by InRu, so when I actually got what I wanted I wasn't going to let a little thing like Covid keep me from seeing the results: A couple of weeks later than originally planned I'm at the Olivier for Indhu Rubasingham's debut as Artistic Director, and the current front of house exhibition is all about how Ancient Greek theatre has always been a major part of the venue's DNA, not just in the amount of adaptations staged over the years but in the very architecture of the largest auditorium. But Rubasingham has always been more of a specialist in new writing than classics, so if Euripides' Bacchae already seemed a gory start to a new regime, it was always going to come with a twist or two as well.

The most well-publicised one is that the adaptation comes courtesy of Nima Taleghani, best known as an actor but with a bit of dramaturgy under his belt, but still making him officially the first playwright to have their professional debut on this stage.

His Bacchae is brash, colloquial and sometimes so eager to seem cool it has the opposite effect, but it's actually not as far from the original story as some recent takes on Greek Theatre. The titular chorus is led by Vida (Clare Perkins,) who served as surrogate mother to the new god Dionysos after his real mortal mother died of Hera-adjacent complications in childbirth. They have returned from the Middle East to "Dio"'s birthplace of Thebes, where his mortal cousin Pentheus (James McArdle) is king.

Pentheus' despotic rule has cracked down in particular on women, as well as any deviation from strict gender stereotypes, so it goes against everything the god of wine and his independent female followers stand for. The women have hatched a plan that involves abducting the king's mother Agave (Sharon Small) and turning her into one of them, but when the uptight Queen Mother gets a taste of the Bacchae's freedom she embraces only their most violent extremes.

Where Taleghani deviates most from Euripides is in fleshing out the Chorus instead of having them be a uniform bloodthirsty group, so where Vida assumes a maternal role not only for Dio but for the other women as well, she faces pushback from factions within them, particularly Anna Russell-Martin's Kera, the face of a particularly angry, wounded feminism. But the group also includes a variety of voices, like Melanie-Joyce Bermudez' brattish Serene, Ellie-May Sheridan's Yunann with her PhD in witchcraft, and Amanda Wilkin's sensible, clipboard-carrying Demi, aghast at what their sisterhood is turning into.

Where Taleghani has been very canny is in spotting the many ways this particular Greek Tragedy speaks to 2025: An increasingly despotic government building power through an incredibly rigid, reactionary brand of morality that demonises immigrants, women and anyone who doesn't conform to gender norms - all labels that apply to the Bacchae as well as they do to current right-wing targets. When the women eventually summon the deity himself, Dionysos is as sexy and seductive as is inevitable when you've got Ukweli Roach playing him, but he's also gentler than I've seen him before: If he's vindictive it's only because that's the default mode for Greek gods, not because of any particular cruelty.

This comes out in the play's dealing with toxic masculinity, which treats Pentheus as one of the tragic characters rather than pure villain, a young boy experimenting with gender before growing up and feeling pressured into a very rigid idea of what a man and a ruler should be. Where this all doesn't hold up as well is in the way the many topical points overlap and the play can feel unfocused and bloated at times.

The playful language is also hit and miss, with the topical references and modern rhymes feeling a bit forced, especially at the start as writer and director try to welcome a fresh new audience a bit too obviously. The cringe factor dies down as the play goes on, but though Taleghani is still young he might as well accept that he's already most famous as one of the teachers not one of the kids, and relax into it a bit. Rubasingham's choice of this opening salvo can also feel a bit like she's overstating the idea of handing the National Theatre back to the people, but I do like how it also highlights the uniqueness of theatre as a form, celebrating the fact that it gets its own Olympian god.

And it's definitely embracing the form in its sound and visuals - Robert Jones' designs only occasionally go for something flashy but the raised multiple revolves always help it look dynamic and spectacular, while DJ Walde's music and Kate Prince's choreography find the successful blend between ancient ritual and modern expression that doesn't always hit the mark elsewhere. Few new artistic directors of any venue, let alone the one with the highest profile, hit the ground running and Rubasingham is no exception, but if this Bacchae is imperfect and has proved divisive, it certainly gets the imagination going.

Bacchae by Nima Taleghani after Euripides is booking until the 1st of November at the National Theatre's Olivier.

Running time: 1 hour 45 minutes straight through.

Photo credit: Marc Brenner.