Antigone

Everything about director Adena Jacobs' re-interpretation of Sophocles' Antigone is confronting, but none of it relies on shock factor. What should be traumatic comes with a cold barrier, but this numb shield it creates is purposeful and challenges the audience's perception of traumatic events; how do we treat bodies? 

The classic tragedy has been tweaked to reflect modern Australia's society. There are barely veiled quips regarding our government's asylum seeker policies, deaths in custody, crimes against humanity. All the while those in power spout jargon and rhetoric, denigrating the 'bleeding heart (lefties)' and reiterating that it's not personal, it's just politics. Some of it is a little on the nose — the audience's soft chuckles a coy 'we get it' — yet even that doesn't lessen the impact by the time the play's climax arrives.

Emily Milledge stuns as the titular character and, opposite her, Jane Montgomery Griffiths' female Creon also leaves a lasting impression. The Sisters Hayes' sparse, stark set design and utilitarian costumes in combination with Paul Jackson's lighting design and Jethro Woodward's punishing, industrial-noise sound design evoke a harsh, dystopian setting to engulfing effect. The actors' exaggerated, perfect enunciation — their mics ever so slightly reverbed — ensures we can't escape the cruelty or defiance of the words spoken.