AACT stages new production of 'Medea'

Can the world tolerate another bitter woman? Before Alanis, Thelma and Louise, and "The First Wives Club," before alimony and feminism, there was Medea. She was the first of her kind because her creator, Euripides, was an ancient Greek. The 1997 Ann Arbor Civic Theater performance captures Medea's acrimonious tongue and passionate love.

PREVIEW
	Medea June 12-14, 19-21, 8 p.m. Civic Playhouse, 2275 Platt Rd. Tickets $10; $9 for students

Medea, played by Wendy Hiller, is laden with contradiction. She is a proud and protective mother, but circumstances cast her as an enraged murderess. A princess and a sorceress, she has suffered a grievous injury by her own husband, Jason. Wendy Hiller shows her flexible range while she performs the complex psychology of this character. She shocks and delights the audience with an invocation to Hecate and a grin like Morticia Addams.'

Jason is represented by Danny Ferman as a ponytailed prima donna. He radiates arrogance, even after wedding a younger wife who is, not coincidentally, King Creon's daughter. Recall: Medea has previously killed her own brother, fled her native land, followed Jason to Greece and mothered his two sons. Is Jason the provocation for his first wife's rage or the victim of her witchcraft?

The chorus, composed of Greek women, supplies the vacillating answer to this question. Their judgments add chant, rhythm and tension to the play. Greek women sympathize with Medea because she is a female (and thus wretched) but fear her because she is a foreigner. The chorus of women also makes this Greek drama timeless; one can almost envision Oprah or Ricki Lake thrusting a microphone in front of Medea, while an audience of chanting women waits for Jason to take the stage.

King Creon, the father of Jason's new bride Creusa, tries to protect his daughter from Medea by banishing her to exile. More of a whiner than a ruler, Creon could use a dose of Medea's venom. Melissa Ryan, playing the part of the messenger, energizes the stage. She frets and flails her arms in agony, bemoaning Medea's vengeance, maximizing her short time on stage. Ryan delivers the torturous fate of Creusa, as the princess' pain is silhouetted in the background.

The scenery of "Medea" is monochromatic - a stark motif for a spectrum of emotion. The gray of Medea's stone home contrasts with the suggestion of jungle vines festooning the sky. The juxtaposition of the town and the jungle mirrors the many contradictions of "civilized" people. Tod Barker, the production's director, artfully suggests that "Medea" takes place in Greece, but also lives entangled within our human hearts.

Give your imagination a whirl and take the worthwhile 5- to 10-minute drive from campus to the Civic Playhouse (2275 Platt Rd.). The Playhouse, constructed in an old roller-skating rink, has no concealing curtain and no faraway seats. Here, one can escape to a foreign landscape of unthinkable deeds and unbearable passion.

Can the world sustain another bitter woman? So long as men follow the laws of the jungle - survival at any cost - women will find power in their strong emotions. Medea, as her nurse says, is not a weak woman. Rather, her intense love and intense hate drive her to extreme actions. For the bitter at heart, only revenge is sweet.

06-11-97