Sophocles' dramatic innovations are well documented: he increased the number of the chorus from 12 to 15; he added a third actor and took great strides in depth of characterisation. At no stage did he introduce an elderly nun named Brigid.
The presence of the holy sister is but the first surprise of Jo Combes's production, which transplants Sophocles' scenario to a Galway beach. "Lectra", as everyone refers to her here, is an agitated, pallid girl who looks likely to catch her death braving the Atlantic gale in a sacrificial slip. Chrissy, her sister, prefers Victorian pyjamas while their wicked mother Nestra is strikingly dolled up in a cocktail attire.
There's nothing wrong with filtering Attic tragedy through a modern consciousness - O'Neill and Anouilh did it very well. But Combes' version of the text brings up the question of when an adaptation, containing references to "fuckin'" and "eejits", ought to be billed as a new play altogether.
Combes states in her programme note that Electra reflects a world governed by oppressive codes of behaviour and strict faith, so that "the west coast of Ireland in the 1950s called out as having many parallels". Repressive the Catholic faith can be, though I don't recall it ever condoning human sacrifice. And if Combes really wanted to give the play an emerald gloss, why not delve back further into a pantheon of Celtic gods as capricious and unreliable as Sophocles' own?
Combes also creates trouble for herself in that classical tragedy and social realism create a jarring mix. When Sophocles' Aegisthus solemnly exits to face his own murder, it is a ceremonial illustration of the workings of divine fate. Here you wonder why a strapping Irish farmer would submit to be slaughtered by a trembling whelp. He ought to stand up for himself, the eejit.
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