Review: Medea the Musical

Medea The Musical – a classical tale ripped out of antiquity and thrown into a rock concert in a courtroom. The defendant sings for her life and you, the audience, are the jury. This student written production has a bounce and energy that maligned the darkness of its plot. An insidious atmosphere is created by the energy of the early musical numbers, each feeling like distractions before the tragedy that the play’s classical inspiration promises.

Medea The Musical has a complicated relationship with reality: The narrative is framed by a trial of our titular character, informing us immediately of the crime she would commit at the end. Whilst this framing device is instantly gripping, it is slightly inconsistent.

In the middle of the play Aegeus (Gregory Miller), the lawyer narrating this production as the closing remarks of Medea’s trial, becomes part of the action and this breaks both his relationship with the trial and the unique relationship he has with the audience. In his greater involvement with the plot, he becomes an active agent in the drama rather than the detached guide.

This being said Miller’s performance as Aegeus is exceptional. Control underlines the quality he brings to the stage: control of his physicality, his expression and the audience itself. He does not so much command the stage as flatter it, a slight simpering tone creeps into his authoritative delivery in a character that is both Iago and Shylock.

Miller’s character is the linchpin that holds the story together and is perhaps over-relied on. Miller dictates the production and so if at any point he were to make an error, it would disrupt the tempo of the other performers dramatically. It is fortunate that he gave a performance of such quality. 

Aegeus and Jason rehearse (Image Credit: Maria Woodford)

There is a difficult range demanded by Canham’s ambitious script. Performers must be able to express complex interpersonal relationships in only brief scenes of dialogue, sing and perform both as an individual and a chorus, and transition between them well.

Dixie McDevitt, playing Glauce, is the most impressive in her ability to oscillate between these two demanding performance modes. Not only does McDevitt navigate this translation well but she also builds a great rapport with the audience, she basks in the pure malevolence of her character and displays an impressive physicality. 

Gabriel Jones, playing Jason, gives the most understated performance of the night. Clearly told to find the vulnerability in his character he occasionally focuses too much making himself appear weak as a result. This being said the greatest emotional depth in the production comes from the chemistry between Jones and Canham. The words left unsaid in the subtle but tender dialogue hint at a life that could have been between the two before, while adding a quiet tragedy to the loud violence the audience is told to expect at the end of the play. 

The chemistry between Jones and Canham is thrown into harsh relief by the lack of intimacy he shares with McDevitt, his wife in the play. The lack of discernible attraction between the two slightly perhaps broke my suspension of disbelief, forcing me to question why they were together.

Canham was, in a talented cast, the stand out performer. Her power, pose and passion shone in every syllable sung or spoken. Canham’s Medea is a force of nature: Anger and weariness are etched into every action she performs with a fragility lingering just beneath the surface. You fear her and fear for her. It is perhaps unsurprising, given that she wrote Medea for herself, that Canham is able to convey such an intuitive understanding of what her role requires. 

Medea and Glauce behind the scenes (Image Credit: Maria Woodford)

Whilst the plot and character are engaging, it is from its music that Medea derives all its power. The songs bring us into a new world, a complicated world in between the dialogue: It is a world woven into the gaps left when desire cannot be met by action. In one powerful duet between Jason and Medea, there is a world of feelings that cannot be acted upon or spoken. They are held from each other by their inability to communicate, unkissed, untouched, unloved. The audience is left begging for them to express their eloquent feelings in dialogue as well as song.

But, in this play full of unspoken words, their true desire and desperation are only expressed in their moments of vulnerability sung with loud pain. The force of emotion expressed in these moments expands the close space of the Town and Gown Theatre, blowing the stage out into a stadium and making the performers every bit rock stars that their costumes imply. 

The audience is brought into this world of the in-between by the change in light. Smooth transitions between a deep blue, violent red and playful purple express both our departure from the ‘reality’ of the dialogue and the emotion of the scenes they are lighting. Each performer’s singing talent is prodigious and each of them brings an understanding of character to each musical performance is important in maintaining the consistency of the production. 

Medea The Musical is everything wonderful about student theatre, not overly polished, clinical or commercial but with passion, talent and energy that pours from every part of this production. What it captures is something that is both beautiful and transitory. For only three more evenings something very special is happening in Town and Gown, something that doesn’t happen very often and anyone who does not see Medea The Musical will regret it.

4.5/5

Medea the Musical is running at the Town and Gown Theatre at 7.30pm from Monday 7th until Thursday 10th March. Tickets are available here.