Foiled by Fate, Felled by Failure: Reviewing 'Oedipus' at the Old Vic

★★★ | "Oe-di-pus! Oe-di-pus! Oe-di-pus!"

A lone figure of the cursed king appears, hunched over and clothed in a simple white shirt and grey slacks – the hallmark of any classic politician. Rami Malek makes for a relatively nondescript Oedipus; he radiates none of the overt charisma and presence that other actors (namely, Mark Strong in Robert Icke’s modern-day revival at the Wyndham’s) have brought to the role. Rather, he is a man of the people, elected following his triumph against the Sphinx and his salvation of the kingdom of Thebes. With this opening image, the music intensifies, a frenzy grows, and the dance ensemble-chorus explodes outwards in a surge of intense, animalistic energy. 

Co-directed by Hofesh Shechter and Matthew Warcus in a brand new adaptation by Ella Hickson, this production of Oedipus is a delirious and devastating commentary on man’s powerlessness against the divine. Set in a vaguely desert-like, apocalyptic version of Thebes (quite reminiscent of Arrakis in Dune), the city faces a severe drought. Thebans, driven to desperation, are sacrificing their children to the gods in the hope of rain, while begging their leader King Oedipus to once again save Thebes, as he had done decades before when he defeated the Sphinx by solving its riddle.

Rami Malek (as Oedipus), Indira Varma (as Jocasta), and dancers from the Hofesh Shechter Company in Oedipus. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

To a relatively secular Oedipus (Rami Malek) and Jocasta (Indira Varma), the root of the problem is clear: changes in climate have made the city no longer habitable, and the only solution forward is a mass exodus out of Thebes. But the Thebans, being deeply spiritual, believe that their land is sacred and refuse to leave. In a bid to renew the people’s faith in him as their leader (and in spite of Jocasta’s opposition), Oedipus consults the Oracle, believing that once he performs as the Oracle decrees, the people will be willing to follow him out of Thebes in search of new land. However, the Oracle decrees that the drought is a divine punishment laid on Thebes for the failure to find its previous King’s murderer, and once the murderer is found, the drought will be lifted. Of course, as we learn, Oedipus himself is the murderer he seeks, having unknowingly killed King Laius en route to Thebes decades before. This epic Greek tragedy charts Oedipus’ blind quest for the truth, his path of discovery towards further horrific revelations, and ultimately, his downfall. 

While the premise of the Old Vic’s production remains largely the same, it is a decidedly contemporary reimagining of the ancient Greek play. Unlike the original, King Oedipus and Queen Jocasta are self-deterministic atheists – Oedipus takes credit for finding the answer to the Sphinx’s riddle instead of attributing it to the gods’ blessing, and Jocasta scorns the notion that letting King Laius’ murderer go free has any relation to the lack of rainfall. In fact, Oedipus and Jocasta, though benevolent, choose to capitalise on the power of religion and faith of the masses to achieve a political end – a layer of complexity that keeps Hickson’s adaptation fresh and distinct from previous versions.  

Rami Malek (as Oedipus) and Indira Varma (as Jocasta) in Oedipus. Photo by Manuel Harlan.

Interspersed throughout these intimately performed character scenes are explosive moments of rhythmic, pulsating contemporary dance performed by the Hofesh Shechter Company, which replaces a traditional Greek chorus. Performing even the most static of movements with intense energy, the dance chorus fully augments the scale of the play, providing a welcome respite from the intensity of the character scenes. The grandiosity of the choreography is matched by Rae Smith’s set and Tom Visser’s lighting, which work in tandem with the deep stage to create vast, moving geometric shapes, evoking a sense of immense scale. However, despite being stunningly impactful, I found the dance sequences almost too abstract to glean much nuance from, and I was left in a state of somewhat confused awe. 

The scale of the choreography and stage is broken up by dialogue between individual characters, and it is at these points that the show is most lacking. Disjointedness aside, most of the scenes felt extremely two-dimensional in scale, lacking the layers of complexity that underlie this gripping family drama. While keeping the scenes contained rooted the drama in a much more human context, I found myself questioning if the Old Vic auditorium – massive as it is – was the right venue to be putting this intimate interpretation on. Being so high up and far back in the Bayliss Circle, I missed the minute facial expressions that would have provided some of the subtlety I was craving. 

Dancers from the Hofesh Shechter Company in Oedipus. Photo Credit: Manuel Harlan

As the titular king, Rami Malek is also much less likeable than I’d hoped for. His Oedipus is benevolent in word and action, yet cunning in thought, offering up royal reserves to the people who face a drought while turning their fear of the divine against them. He barely heeds Jocasta’s advice, choosing instead to act on his own logic – a decision that leads to the tragic events of the play. He is also a cold, insecure man in power, desperately accusing others of conspiring against him. With these traits, Oedipus is far from the tragic hero that I was expecting to root for: a great leader condemned to his fate through no fault of his, other than zealous truth-seeking. Similarly, the tragedy of Oedipus is also undermined by the lack of a perceptible romantic relationship between Oedipus and Jocasta. Combined, these make the moment of revelation much less impactful than I would have hoped for. 

Additionally, there is little nuance in response to the immense complexity of the dilemma that the characters are faced with. Indira Varma’s Jocasta quickly flips from declarations of ardent love for Oedipus in the first half of the play to cries of maternal desperation, with none of the self-directed moral disgust one would expect from having just learned that she had been sexually intimate with her own son. Meanwhile, Creon seems barely fazed by the dawning that the baby he tried to kill is now his brother-in-law. As a result, I was left quite unfulfilled by the climax of the play. That being said, this does not discount Varma’s heartbreaking delivery of Jocasta’s monologue detailing her experience of having her young son taken away, which nearly drew me to tears. 

Rami Malek (as Oedipus), Indira Varma (as Jocasta), and dancers from the Hofesh Shechter Company in Oedipus. Photo by Manuel Harlan

As a somewhat random side note, I also found it interesting that the Oracle is depicted as a tape player – perhaps a small comment on man’s blind trust in technology, or a visual reminder that in a world ruled by the gods, a mere mortal’s fate may already have been recorded way before events come into motion. However, it served little purpose beyond this vaguely symbolic imagery and occasional bouts of crackly cackling. 

All in all, this production of Oedipus was disappointing. Whereas last year bore witness to two decidedly strong but patently distinct Macbeth productions, the Old Vic’s Oedipus instead falls short of the high expectations set by Robert Icke modern-day staging, which played in the West End up until just a month ago. In theatre, it is often said that there exists a cardinal rule that a strong and cohesive creative vision is essential for a reinterpretation of any classic text. Even for source material that has endured for two and a half thousand years, a production can only be as good as the vision that realises it onto a stage. Here, Matthew Warchus and Hofesh Shechter have slightly missed the mark. 

★★★

Oedipus plays at the Old Vic until 29 March.