The Greek chorus is mute, speaking only through dance. Their bodies contort and pulse. An urgent, vibrant, fluid and fierce set of limbs and breaths that convey both the dehydrated citizens and the rain they so desperately crave. The members of the Hofesh Shechter Dance Company are mesmerising. Their performances, which intersperse the tense and taut conversations, are often seen in a murky shadow, causing the bodies to blur and blend into one. A community acting as a single cell.
The use of light, designed by Tom Visser, is refined yet impactful. The stage, open when the audience enters the auditorium, is darker than midnight - with more than half of the stage completely obscured by the thick darkness. It creates a sense of unease before the tensions start to stack. The theatre is brought into this pitch-black state on several occasions, each time the collective apprehension and fear grows.
Creating shadows and distinct, isolated spaces, the light is the only form of ‘set’ on the stark stage. The removal of big set pieces and props leaves space for the actors to shine, and they are blinding.
Rami Malek makes his UK stage debut in the title role. His measured, bassy, droll voice brings a darkly sarcastic wit to Oedipus - thick with contempt and heavy with self-confidence. He is a commanding presence, yet manages to keep his performance deeply intimate. His signature eyes take in the horrors around him, and are visibly wet with tears when confronted by the cause of them.
Opposite him, and equally magnetic, is Indira Varma as Jocasta. No stranger to the UK stage, Varma won an Olivier award for her performance in Present Laughter at the Old Vic six years ago. And it's easy to imagine more statues on their way to her after this fantastic turn. She is vulnerable and funny, commanding yet full of cowardice. Her Jocasta is well-rounded and fully formed, and a joy to watch.
The sun-drenched, sun-damaged land in this latest adaptation of Oedipus, craves water, and I’m only too happy to shower it with praise.