What can a Greek tragedy tell us about the Irish property boom? In the hands of Raw Theatre Company, the parallels seem infinite. Agamemnon returns from war to find his wife Clytemnestra indulging in rampant home improvements, and planning to turn the devastated site of the Trojan war into a shining new development called Trojan Falls.
Simon Doyle's version of Aeschylus's Oresteia is a biting comment on a culture that, in its rush to embrace a fast buck, has lost sight of what it valued. Director Rachel West's ambitious staging adds multimedia layers: a Big Brother-style video link to the enclosed space of a new apartment where Clytemnestra lolls, surfing channels, and a computer-synced soundtrack emanating from Cassandra's midriff. Clytemnestra and Agamemnon present their squabbles in public, addressing us with microphones, while Gary Murphy's brilliantly unctuous Aegisthus is a property developer delivering his sales pitch to camera.
Doyle has tackled Greek tragedy before, in Oedipus Loves You, a tongue-in-cheek mash-up of Sophocles. His ear is attuned to the rhythms of Greek verse, especially the ominous lines of the Chorus, here spoken by one character, a soldier played by Alan Howley, who muses on the inevitability of suffering and the need for justice. Standing apart, flicking through a book, he seems a solitary remnant of the original work in a version that becomes increasingly diffuse and fragmented as it moves through the trilogy.
Clever, ironic and detached, this highly mediated adaptation keeps a sense of tragedy at bay by turning violence into a series of farcical suburban mishaps, where the House of Atreus is just another dysfunctional family.
