Reviews

Hecuba

With intermittent success, Joanne Camp tackles the title role in the Pearl Theatre Company’s production of this classic Greek tragedy.

Joanne Camp in Hecuba
(Photo © Matthew Shane Coleman)
Joanne Camp in Hecuba
(Photo © Matthew Shane Coleman)

Since every age interprets past eras through contemporary eyes and ears, it’s virtually impossible to accurately grasp the thoughts and feelings of Euripides’ audiences as they pondered the issues raised in Hecuba, which is currently being produced by the Pearl Theatre Company. One of those issues is the proper burial (or not) of family members; another is the ritual sacrifice of children to appease the gods, which is not foremost in the minds of present-day theatergoers.

Barbarianism, another subject kicked around with verve in Hecuba, is somewhat more relevant to our times. So is the demand for justice evidenced by the tormented cries that Hecuba repeatedly makes over the deaths of her son, Polydorus, and daughter, Polyxena. Certain topics remain timely through the millennia, and the manner in which dramatists deal with them is what ultimately determines whether or not their works become classics. One of these is grief, which is the overarching focus of Hecuba. The manifestation of grief in the play instantly engages an audience, and it’s Hecuba as an emblem of grief that renders Euripides’ text indispensable.

So, in any production of Hecuba, the audience wants a convincing portrayal of grief. Here, the Pearl’s longtime leading lady Joanne Camp is white-haired and slightly unkempt as the humiliated Trojan queen; her eyes kohl-ringed, she looks like someone who’s deeply mourning her losses, but Camp’s behavior isn’t always consistent with her appearance. Sure, she repeatedly falls to the floor as if in a television ad for a senior-citizen-distress device, as did Vanessa Redgrave in last spring’s staging of Hecuba at BAM. From time to time, Camp emits a pained cry. At other times, perhaps in an attempt to bring different colors to her illustration of grief, she’s unexpectedly contained as if detached from the action, even uninvolved. While it may be inappropriate in real life to question anyone’s handling of grief, it can be said that, on the stage, some demonstrations are more affecting than others. By this criterion, the statuesque Camp is only intermittently successful.

On the other hand, Dominic Cuskern as the murderous Polymestor puts on quite a show of uncontrollable despair after Hecuba takes justice into her own hands. Wearing a mask that drips stylized blood, he takes the character’s cue for passion and runs with it. Cuskern also emanates deep feeling as Talthybius, the messenger who brings news of Polyxena’s execution to Hecuba. The rest of the cast does an adequate job of grappling with the dire events depicted, and the redoubtable Vinie Burrows as one of the chorus is much more than adequate. Director Shepard Sobel positions his players regally but he should have reminded them that, as they hold their poses, some emoting — no matter how subtle — is called for. Of the occasional singing that they’re asked to do (music by sound designer Jane Shaw), the less said the better.

Susan Zeeman Rogers’s scenic design, with its gray walls hit by Stephen Petrilli’s often mauve-dominated lighting, is simple and helpful. It’s appealingly matched by Devon Painter’s predominantly black, gray, and maroon costumes. James Seffens is responsible for the effective masks.

Writing in 1946 about the surviving Greek tragedies, the superlative translator Dudley Fitts noted that “They address us now, the best of them, with a healing urgency we should do well to heed.” Even with its flaws, the Pearl Theatre Company’s Hecuba is sufficiently urgent to be heeded.