National’s new director turns ancient tragedy into modern comedy

Olivier stage at the National Theatre

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Clare Perkins in Bacchae. Photo: Marc Brenner

I was excited at the prospect of Indhu Rubasingham‘s first production as the National Theatre’s Director. She is after all the first woman and first person of colour to run the country’s leading theatre, and she came up with another first- it was the first time an author’s debut play had been produced in the Olivier, the National’s largest auditorium. And what a start from Nima Taleghani. It was a very modern, feminist interpretation of the Euripides’ Bacchae in both the contemporary language he used and the way he placed the chorus at the centre of the action. It was as if Ms Rubasingham wanted to say: ‘from now on this is the people’s theatre.’ A good message, and show had all the makings of a triumphant start to her reign. It was certainly pacey and eye-catching, but I was left a little disappointed.

Bacchae opens as dramatically as you could wish, with a gigantic horsecovered in blood dominating the stage. In fact, Robert Jones‘ moving tiers of stage floors and eye-catching costumes- some Mad Max style, others simply dazzling- along with Oliver Fenwick‘s flashing, whirling lighting, are a continual spectacle. Indhu Rubasingham’s tight direction keeps the pace moving, despite the large number of chorus members that she needed to move.

Choruses are a constant in Ancient Greek drama but usually they are a homogenous group witnessing and commenting on events. Sometimes they have a role beyond that, as in Bacchae, when they are the group of women who worship the demi-god Dionysus. They follow him through his triumphs and troubles, and Euripides extends their role to more active participation in the action. Nima Taleghani has gone even further, making them the driving force in the events that take place on the Olivier stage, a group determined to bring down authoritarian regimes run by men oppressing women.

I don’t want to say too much about what happens in case you don’t know the twists of the story, but suffice to say there is considerable bloodshed and one terrible key moment involving a mistaken victim of a murder. It’s a great play that asks lots of questions about religious fanaticism and the way passion can override reason.

In this adaptation, the chorus are given individual personalities and even split into factions. One is led by Clare Perkins, who brings authority, reason and humour to the part of Vida, the other by a blood-soaked Sharon Small whose demonic eyes that suggest a career in horror films might beckon.

The dispute between King Pentheus and Dionysus is central to the play. The former has banned the latter’s religion and denied his divinity. In this version, the two characters are somewhat maginalised, although James McArdle‘s portrayal of the King as uncertain of his masculinity and Ukweli Roach‘s Dionysus, shown as an unworldy man more into love than war, provided an amusing contrast to the bloodthirsty women. Simon Startin was a dryly funny Tiresias, and so traditional in style that he seemed like a deliberate contrast to the radical changes all around.

Tragedy lost in comedy

Ukweli Roach in Bacchae. Photo: Marc Brenner

Ultimately, far from pondering on the madness of what has taken place at their instigation, the chorus latches onto the fact that Dionysus is, among his many responsibilities for promoting pleasure, the god of theatre. And Vida promises that the theatre they are in will from now on reflect real people’s lives.

All of this is done using some, at times, witty and amusing poetry and rap, peppered with strong language, and many crude references to women enjoying sex. Kate Prince choreographed rambunctious dancing to DJ Walde‘s insistent beats. For my taste, the many rousing speeches were shouted rather than delivered, and had me reaching in my bag for an aspirin. Don’t misunderstand me, it was fun, but Bacchae was written as a tragedy, and that essential element of it is lost in all the comedy. The remoulding of the plot to support the positive message, not only makes the story confusing, it undermines events that should leave us shell-shocked.

So, I did find Bacchae entertaining, and I am looking forward to what else Indhu Rubasingham will bring to our national theatre, but I hope there will be less messing about and more substance.

Bacchae can be seen at the National Theatre until 1 November 2026. Buy tickets direct from the theatre

Paul was given a review ticket by the theatre.

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Sweat- an important visceral play by Lynn Nottage.

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There is so much I could say about this play but I want to concentrate on the central story which concerns the deindustrialisation that happened in the US in the early 21^st century. It’s something we in the UK are only too familiar with. Our government, like many others, moved the economy away from manufacturing, letting those jobs go to China, Mexico and other developing countries where labour was cheap.

Production shot of Leanne Best, Martha Plimpton and Clare Perkins in the Donmar production of Sweat at the Gielgud Theatre

Leanne Best, Martha Plimpton and Clare Perkins in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

In Sweat the action takes place in 2000 in Reading, Pennsylvania and is based on true events surrounding factory closures. Lynn Nottage has created complex believable characters and we see at first hand their sense of betrayal, loss and anger. They feel betrayed because generations had worked at the factory and displayed what they saw as loyalty. They lose their way of life and their sense of worth.

In a succession of scenes, the main characters meet up in a bar that looks as industrial as a factory. In particular we meet two good friends Tracey and Cynthia. At first all is well but we can see the seeds of what will happen. Unlike Tracey and her son Jason (Patrick Gibson) who see working on the line as their lives, Cynthia and her boy Chris (Osy Ikhile) aspire to get away from the grind of the factory floor. Chris plans to go to college, Cynthia would like to move into management.

Both women apply for a supervisor vacancy, Tracey just for the hell of it but Cynthia because she really wants it. When the more suitable Cynthia gets it, Tracey who’s white puts it about that Cynthia only got the job because she’s black- in other words, because of positive discrimination. Racism, it seems, is just waiting below the surface like sewer beneath a road. When the factory threatens jobs, the division between old friends just gets worse as does prejudice against any ethnic minority.

Martha Plimpton in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

Tracey is repulsive. She’s undoubtedly the life and soul of the party but she’s also ignorant and blindly prejudiced. And very aggressive- Mike Tyson would hesitate to pick a fight with her. It’s a layered character brilliantly conveyed by Martha Plimpton. You are appalled by her but you know enough about her to recognise her as a fellow human and to realise her biggest problem is a lack of education, which leads to her inability to see the bigger picture, and her failure to see that her interest lies in unity not division.

Clare Perkins in Sweat. Photo: Johan Persson

When we go forward eight years, we see the long lasting devastating effects of job loss on individuals when a whole community becomes poor. Frankie Bradshaw’s set now represents the isolation of homes rather than the community of the bar. Clare Perkins breaks your heart as Cynthia who dreamed of improving her life and ends up used, abused and struggling to survive.

There is a shocking act of violence involving Jason and Chris that stems from the threatened factory closure. Perhaps Jason was always likely to resort to violence when under pressure but it is easy to see what happens as a metaphor for the blows against the establishment struck by working class people voting for Trump or Brexit.

Lynette Linton‘s direction is tight and the characters express themselves as physically as they do verbally. While the production might not be as visceral as it must have been in the cockpit of its original venue The Donmar, Sweat remains a harrowing, important experience. It brings home the shocking reality of the effect of deindustrialisation on people and communities. It also gives us an insight into why we are seeing such a rise in racism and populism.