The Portland State Theater Department’s production of Sophocles’ Electra, with its new adaption by Frank McGuinness, is a house of cards held together by decent student performances and fluidity of story. Other than that, it is what I refer to as “snooze-core.”
Now, I am no expert on Greek tragedy, and don’t pretend to be, but Electra only gives a slice of an otherwise intriguing story, and because of that, questions are left unanswered. Upon interviewing the director, Devon Allen—who has directed other PSU performances such as Glengarry Glen Ross—I was handed a single-spaced typed description of the background of the story, so I would have a better idea of the context surrounding the characters of Electra. Low and behold when I went to see the production, there were the same notes in the program.
I have nothing against notes as a theatre writer or theatergoer, but having a page to describe the set-up and then still being confused in parts of the production probably doesn’t sit well with most people (besides me) just trying to enjoy some theatre.
That is not to say that Electra was necessarily a bad play. It wasn’t. It could have been more, but it did well with what it had. Anneka Wisner, who plays the title character, seems to be caught in that rut a lot of student actors find themselves in—the inability to show more than two emotions: vicious rage or panicked docility.
It did well for her character though, whose plight of being a scorned, mourning woman waiting for her brother to avenge her father’s death by the hands of her mother’s lover needs adequate rage in order to show the depth of the character’s despair. For that, Wisner shines. As Allen put it, Electra is a character with “a very severe honor code that is compelling.”
However, the standout performance is offered by antagonist (and Electra‘s mother) Clytemnestra, played by Jaclyn Krowen. With spot-on contempt juxtaposed with remorse for her daughter, Krowen doesn’t need to act like a bitch of a mother, she becomes one, with fierce gestures and sadistic glee when she hears of her son Orestes’ death.
While, for the most part, the performances are of standard to high caliber, the same cannot be said for the costume design. Thoroughly uninspired, most of the characters looked like they dropped by the Goodwill bins before the production. I understand wanting to mix things up with a tried and true tale, but having Aegisthus, Electra’s stepfather, dressed in some type of zoot suit doesn’t add to his characterization. Rather, it makes a mockery of his relationship to the rest of the bunch.
Other parts of the production are a little of kilter as well. They are basically distractions and detractions. The two women of the chorus seem completely unnecessary, even if a chorus is a commonplace part of the whole Greek tragedy experience. They are recognized as Electra’s friends by several characters throughout the play, yet they add nothing substantive as a part of the production, just odd spasms and some cooing.
According to Allen, “The chorus is very wide open … so the director decides, is that a chorus of 50 women? Is that a chorus of one man? You have to figure out how the chorus actually functions in the play, it’s not given to you by the playwright.”
Allen, unfortunately, missteps in this endeavor.
The first scene with Electra, and the final scene of the production, while moving, are still questionable. Electra wears a mask in both scenes and in both instances that mask is splattered with droplets of blood from the ceiling.
While trying to understand the significance of the mask (She is afraid to be herself? She feels trapped with a family of disrepute and doesn’t want to show her face in connection with it? She doesn’t like people to see her cry?) the concrete emotions established by the connections and actions of the characters lose some of their impact.
Portland State’s Electra is a courageous effort in its attempt to tackle “classic” theatre and adapt it for the masses. It’s regrettable that some of its efforts detract instead of enhance the overall production.