A HELLUVA HELLAS
Ancient drama gets short shrift here in Los Angeles. Sure, we get the stories, but the shows are usually adaptations, hardly ever a straight translation, and when we do, they’re performed in today’s style. In 2018, The School of Night did something radical: they performed Seneca’s Hercules Insane as written and with the actors wearing masks. It was a tiny, no-budget production at Hollywood Fringe that hardly anybody saw, but it felt so fresh that I’ve longed to see more historically-informed productions ever since. They’re back with a new day-long festival play set in the world of ancient Greece, Hellas, by Christopher William Johnson, at the Broadwater for a painfully short four-week run.
Ruju Dani and Scott Bartling
The story begins in Sparta, where feral and frightening King Kleomenes rages at everyone over everything. A diplomat from Persia arrives with the message that King Darius requests a gift of dirt and water. Of course, this innocuous request is more that it seems, and Kleomenes brutally discards the diplomat. Darius sends the same message to democratic Athens, where the citizens vote to do the same. Meanwhile, in Persia, vicious Queen Atossa schemes to make her timid son, Xerxes, the next king of Persia. Thus starts the Persian invasion of the Greek city-states.
Athenians vs Persians in Battle of Marathon
Johnson wrote in the style of classical drama. While he used modern English, his writing feels older. It’s tonally consistent throughout and refreshingly free of quickly-dated modernisms, save for one deeply unwise line near the end. He compressed and rearranged historical events, adding in some very satisfying fictionalization. The whole show feels deeply researched and uses alternate words than we’re used to, which, like Robert Fitzgerald’s translation of The Odyssey, is a little disorienting at first (“Athena?” Isn’t she…? Oh. Got it. Athens). Like the great plays that inspired him, Hellas is deliciously violent and full of bloodthirsty characters that are one betrayal away from death.
Keegan Gray Hughes, Sebastian Sage, Rich Dally lll
Direction and costume design, also by Johnson, is where Hellas really shines. The entire cast wears masks, each in the styles of their homelands: the minimal and earthy Spartans, the cosmopolitan and individualistic Athenians, the extravagant and godlike Persians. He has them act in a grand, presentational style, no subtlety, but loads of nuance. It made me long to see this in a place like the Getty Villa’s amphitheater. It was amazing how expressive the cast was, being forced to act without their faces. Not stopping there, Johnson also did scenery and props, minimal but rich.
Aeschylus choral ode
Standouts in the huge 24-member cast: Daniel Adomian is honest and honorable King Leonidas; Jen Albert is soft-spoken Queen Artemisia, who commanded the Persian navy; Dawn Alden roars as Queen Atossa; Scott Bartling is ethereal as King Xsyarsa; Colin A. Borden dominates as cunning Themistokles; Rich Dally III is a shifty Demaratus; Sara Gorsky brings compassion and sense as Queen Gorgo; and Tristan Rewald, with a resonant voice to kill for, plays Mardonius. Brief but delicious are Thomas Bigley (King Darius), Jordan Liebowitz (Miltiades), and Sebastian Sage (King Kleomenes).
Daniel Adomian and Colin Borden
Special mention goes to composer Ryan Beveridge and drummer Chloe Madriaga, who was the only performer on stage for the entire show. With her collection of drums and other instruments, she conducted the performance, maintaining the actors’ timing throughout, the score sometimes adding sound effects to draw out characters’ machinations, including a memorable snake’s rattle. Even though I sat only a few feet away from her, she played gently, not tiring or busting my ears. She, along with the cast, was pleasurably unamplified.
Dawn Alden, Scott Bartling, Anand Mahalingam, Tristan Rewald
Several cast members did double-duty as crew members, putting in a ton of work. Ms. Albert is the fight choreographer. Her stylized staging of the first land battle is breathtaking. The traditional fights are strong, but are executed too slowly to feel perilous; if the cast gets it in their muscle memory and speeds it up, it should be pretty tight. Gorsky designed the modest lighting. Beveridge was also sound designer, adding a light amount of occasional amplified effects.
Ruju Dani, Angelika Giatras, Dawn Alden, Scott Bartling
As much as I was enjoying the show, several problems came up that couldn’t be written off as merely opening-day jitters (though some of those were charming). Distorted, crackling sound ruined what would have been a stunning visit to Sparta’s oracle. The land battles that started so strong began to feel repetitive and without variation. Yes, it was part of the point, as the Persians kept repeating the same mistakes, but, at hour four, I was beginning to feel similarly bleary-eyed as during the endless battles of an all-day screening of The Lord of the Rings (not recommended). Tomboyish Emily Grace Gargiulo is miscast as aggro male Spartan warrior, Amompheratus. One actor flubbed so many lines, that I would have preferred that he just carry the script. That ragged last hour felt like they ran out of rehearsal time. I expect it’ll be much smoother by the time you see it.
Daniel Adomian and Colin BordenThe play’s character interactions, so strong in the first half, gave way in the second to plot and more plot, obscuring the play’s thesis. I was impressed with how Johnson made battle geography clear, but I missed the character-driven writing from earlier. One of the things I like about classic drama is how important actions take place out of our view: Oedipus gouges out his eyes off stage, then everybody talks about it. Do we really need to see so many battles? As for that unwise line I mentioned earlier, it is so jarring, so out of character from the preceding five hours, that it was the only thing I could think about for most of the finale. Can one short line be so bad that it ruins an entire work? I want to say yes, but logic tells me no. I won’t repeat it here. Only, Mr. Johnson, can you delete that line, sir?
I wanted Hellas to be as good as a similarly-themed festival play, All Our Tragic. It’s not there yet, but, rough edges and all, it’s incredibly exciting and inventive. If you have any interest in classical theater, I can’t think of a better way to spend an entire day in a boundless black box this season.
photos by Jessica Sherman
Hellas
School of Night
The Broadwater Mainstage, 1076 Lillian Way in Hollywood
Fri at 7:30 Part I or Part II
Part I: 2:45 with intermissions; Part II: 2:30 with intermission
Sat & Sun at 2: complete saga (5½ – 6 hours)
suggested Age 12+
for tickets ($25-$30), visit Ticket Leap
for more shows, visit Theatre in LA
