The Bacchae

Robert Reid’s reimagining of Euripides’ The Bacchae, infused with references to Richard Schechner’s Dionysus In ’69, is trying to say so much it becomes white noise.

The text shifts between The Bacchae’s original Ancient Greek setting to 1840s Paris, with Dr Jean-Martin Charcot’s nefarious treatment of hysteria in women, to the late 1960s and early 1970s, a time when Schechner and The Performance Group rehearsed their play, Manson was on trial, and people came out to protest the Vietnam War. While the shifting between settings and the commendable cast of 40 women and non-binary actors does present an interesting commentary on the power women can have on culture, the overwhelming script does this notion little justice. It is difficult to understand why Euripides’ text is being compared to specifically American cultural movements, and not, for example, something in Australia’s history or our present moment. The infusion of various American pop cultural references in the ancient parts of the show – and the breaking into classic ‘60s political songs, such as California Dreamin’, House Of The Rising Sun, Helter Skelter and War – occurs so often that it begins to lose its power quickly and soon become just a novelty.

However, it is wonderful to see such a large cast of women and non-binary actors on stage together, all of different ages, cultural backgrounds and theatre experience – this is a co-production with Monash University Student Theatre. The charisma between the actors playing Dr Charcot (Felicity Steele) and Annia (Ellen Grimshaw) was great to watch, the actors playing Schechner (Kerith Manderson-Galvin) and Charlie (Carissa Lee) brought entertainment to every scene they were in, and there was one particular actor in the chorus with her hair in two plaits who acted the heck out of every moment. With 40 actors on stage, it could be easy for someone to get lost, however every actor had their moment to contribute something important to the text – there was a real sense of camaraderie here. 

The Bacchae at La Mama runs in two parts, altogether four hours – however, you can split the two parts over two days. The play stems from an interesting idea but feels as though it is screaming its points too loudly.