Bakersfield’s local theater scene has come back with a vengeance after the pandemic, and our local artists seem to have gained a renewed passion for storytelling, particularly those stories they always wanted to tell but which might have seemed more risky. In this case, a new endeavor by Mariah Jordan - Stage Hungry - combined food, art, and drama to great effect.
I’ll recommend the Bakersfield Californian’s article for more on the background, and just add that we saw one of two nights at the small Stars Playhouse space, and that the food was tasty.
I was trying to think back to what I last saw Mariah Jordan (also billed as Mariah Bathe) in, and it turns out it was a pair of plays back in 2018: Measure for Measure at Bakersfield College, and Three Sisters at The Empty Space. It is good to see her back on stage - and, as it turns out, in other roles as well.
Also great to see again after a
few years was Ryan Lee, who lit up local stages for a few years in roles like Hamlet
before departing to continue his education. Since there wasn’t a program, I
confess that, other than Shelbie McClaine, the names of the other actors in
this small (7 actor) production elude me. So I’ll just go with “great job to
all” for the other parts. Also nice job by director Bethany Lahammer for a great staging.
The Heavens’ Favorite Murderess is an adaptation of Medea, best known in its version by Eurpides. I read and wrote about it over a decade ago (is it really that long ago???) It definitely stuck with me, and I count it as one of my favorites of the ancient Greek plays. (I also think Antigone is better than Oedipus Rex…I love the strong and intelligent women in both.)
The art of staging Medea is a difficult one. Many of the values that the Greeks took for granted feel odd 2500 years later, and thus the motivations of the characters can feel elusive. In this case, the idea of a mother murdering her children is shocking (although it still is done today.)
But Medea is also a strikingly modern protagonist. She is the breadwinner in the family, so to speak, having enabled the ostensible “hero,” Jason, to defeat all odds. She gives him all the cheat codes to solve the quest, uses her inside information to betray her family so Jason can escape, and even murders her own brother.
And all this, for love.
Jason, like fragile men then and now, prefers to be the hero - the sole hero, with no need to admit that the woman did it all for him. Medea thus becomes a burden, rather than the equal badass partner she could have been for him. And, like men then and now, he finds a younger, more submissive woman to replace her.
So, how to put this difficult, shocking, and yet incredibly powerful story on the stage?
Mariah Jordan read four different translations of Euripides’ play, and wrote a modernized adaptation. And, I must say, it is excellent.
The chorus parts feel the most different, as they reflect our modern values more than that of the Greek honor culture. But the central dialogues between Medea and Jason are both modern in language and faithful to the original. All of the necessary elements are there: the ambiguity about Jason’s motives - was his new marriage a political alliance or a hot new honey? - Jason’s discomfort with sharing glory, Medea’s passionate and irrational love for the unworthy Jason now turned to hate, and the strange chemistry that still exists between the former lovers.
It was an impressive job at adaptation and creation, and thoroughly satisfying as a theater experience.
The small space also contributed to the power of the play. The actors were close enough to touch, which let them use an expanded dynamic range. Both Jordan as Medea and Lee as Jason were able to speak barely above a whisper, which was more devastating than when they yelled at each other.
Lee and Jordan had excellent chemistry, and brought out the complexities of two flawed characters who manage to destroy everything around them. And yet, Medea wins the approval of the gods? That may be the central mystery of the play. How is it that a woman, wronged though she was, who chooses to burn her world down around her (as if she were a man, no less!) escapes the censure that the heroes of Greek tragedy cannot?
The aftermath of the play is fascinating to me. While not contained within the play, Euripides could presumably count on his audience to know both the back story: the golden fleece, the Argos, the dragon’s teeth, and all that - and also the sequelae to events of the play.
Medea, despite her valid fears that abandonment by Jason would mean great hardship, managed to land on her feet. The king of Athens takes her in, marries her, and they have a son, replacing (so to speak) the sons of Jason who she murdered.
Jason’s fate is sadder. While in a different version of the myth, one of his sons escapes Medea’s murderous knife, Jason himself never remarries. The gods no longer smile on him, and he dies lonely, still obsessed with the glory of the past. In a final irony, he is killed when a part of his decaying ship, the Argos, falls on him. He is destroyed by the wreck of his past.
One must wonder what might have been. How would he have ended had he remained faithful to Medea? If he had been happy with her epic love even if he had to share glory? Or was he too shallow for that? The tragedy is in his flawed nature, unwilling to accept love for its own sake.
There is one more chance to see this play: on March 1 at the Bakersfield Museum of Art. I highly recommend it. The best way to get tickets is either through the link in the article above, or via the facebook page for Stage Hungry.
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In addition to reading the Euripides original, I recommend Lauren Groff’s book inspired by the Medea myth, Fates and Furies. While not sharing the exact plot, it has a lot of parallels, and similar emotional landscapes.
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