Hotel Medea, currently playing at the Arcola Theatre, is a six-hour tragedy, consuming itself in the darkest hours of the night, and pushing the audience to their absolute limit. Based on Greek mythology, Medea concerns an enchantress who, having been betrayed by her husband, exacts the most extreme revenge.
Even within the realms of experimental theatre, Hotel Medea is constantly pushing boundaries and comfort zones, with actors so aware of their audience that they mould them into the tragedy.
The midnight 'til dawn dynamic is gruelling for both the actors and audience, with a strong sense of a shared experience or journey, that becomes more delusional as the night goes on. We are forced to live in the tragedy they create, experiencing Medea's pain and suffering as she does, and ultimately trying to understand the reasons for her cruel, sickening revenge.
The trilogy opens (Zero Hour Market) with high-tempo Brazilian singing, drumming and dancing that wakes us up and invites us to join in with the celebrations of Medea's wedding. The stage space is continually defined and redefined, arresting our attention. Medea's sudden betrayal of her people is shocking, leaving us with dreamlike but harrowing imagery of wrongful death.
The second part (Dry Lands) forces the audience to experience the scene from three different viewpoints - purposefully alienating and confusing us in equal measure. In this part, Medea shines, the formation of her body morphing according to her swinging moods, which become increasingly terrifying. This section is set in contemporary Britain, and her husband Jason is represented as a slimy politician. Jason's political identity is a little overdone but allows this segment to touch on several current issues, while offering an inventive interpretation of the original mythology.
The third part (Feast of Dawn) is filled with anticipation – this is the time for Medea to plot her revenge. The acting is particularly impressive at this stage, given that it is dawn, and there are increasingly hard to control east-end-arty-boho young women in the audience who seem inexplicably amused by Medea's rape. A beautiful, epic performance is only heightened by the bare studio, drawing on our imagination in a Brechtian fashion.
Throughout its six-hour duration, the play works hard to keep our attention, becoming increasingly boisterous, dramatic and poignant. We do remain aware of our tiredness, though, because certain scenes are too drawn-out, loosening the grip on the audience. Rather long intervals also allow attention to wander in ways that, sadly, coffee cannot rectify.
A show that starts out vivid, lively and full of colour and music, slowly progresses into a living nightmare. From helping to decorate her naked body in preparation for the wedding, to throwing flowers on her dead childrens' bodies, to then sharing her breakfast, we are forced to live, eat, and breathe as Medea does - a reflection of her impenetrable power and presence.
As we leave this harrowing, horrific all-night tragedy, and wander out onto the cold Dalston streets, we are left feeling washed out. Hotel Medea makes for a deeply unsettling start to the weekend, emotionally overwhelming and sickening.
As I write this, I am experiencing flashbacks as if from an awful nightmare or acid trip. This play consumes its audience in their most vulnerable, tired state, making for a terrifying but unforgettable experience.
Productions shots by Allan Titmuss
Check out What's on at the Arcola Theatre
See all Theatre in London
Add an event
Frieze Art Fair to launch new section for young galleries in 2012
Frieze have today announced details for the 2012 edition, their tenth art fair in London. Taking place...