This is not a translation, or a paraphrasing, but a fully-fledged adaptation of Sophocles’ play by Richard Keith and Simon Haines – no second-year classicist should come to see this play as a substitute for reading their set text. Turning to the ADC brochure in the absence of a programme, the “live music and physical theatre” promised by the blurb was conspicuous in its absence – unless the out of place orientalising overture or carrying of corpses fulfil these criteria. However, there certainly were some “dynamic” elements in this “retelling of a true classic”.

The plot outline retains the same shape as the ancient classic. Antigone, daughter of the incestuous and self-blinding Oedipus, defies Creon, her uncle and newly established King of Thebes, by burying her dishonoured brother, Polynices, slain in a traitorous assault on the city. She is thus condemned to death by the King, highlighting her conflicting loyalties to her family and to the state. The resulting tragic trail culminates in the deaths of Creon’s wife Eurydice and his son, Antigone’s fiancé. The focus is as much on Antigone’s dilemma as on the stubbornness of rulers’ decision-making.

The script strikes an appropriate and consistent register that retains the spirit and themes of the original. Notable changes were made to the structure, and some of these worked to good effect. For instance, Keith and Haines have Haemon explicitly foreshadow his own death.  Although this does not appear in the original, its inclusion in this modern version substituted for the fact that the original audience would have been fully aware of the plot as part of the epic cycle of tragic tales.

However, some additions defied all attempts at justification and felt like mere interpolations. Ismene appears to proposition Creon near the beginning of the second act, seemingly willing to use her adult womanhood to bargain Antigone out of trouble. The subjected position of women, too, felt a little laboured. A few explicit statements from Creon to the effect that women should do as they are told were not fully developed into a central theme - the original play is far more concerned with the question of conflicting loyalties than misogyny. Though this is certainly felt in the original, it was embedded in the culture in which and for which it was written, so should not obscure the main theme to which the original and adaptation are, for the most part, devoted.

The chorus is central to conveying the issues raised by Greek tragedy, and this one was excellent in terms of writing, direction and acting. Ellie Nunn and Temi Wilkey were superb, making the most of the antagonistic interpretations and exchanges given to them by the writers. Combined with well-crafted lighting changes, they gave some much needed drive to the action. The acting highlight, however, was George Potts. He fulfilled the writers’ intentions in giving the Guard a comic edge that brought out the everyman side of his character, eager to avoid trouble, and he seized the opportunity to demonstrate his theatrical diversity with an authoritatively prophetic Tiresias.

Eurydice and Haemon were developed sufficiently as characters, while Alex Gomar gave a slightly disappointing performance as Creon. He has set himself high standards with his previous acting credits, and only after a shaky start did he grow into the role; by the final scene he was almost convincing enough to distract my attention from the laughable use of red streamers to represent the blood of his relations.

The sisters suffered from negligently static direction. The first scene after the chorus’ narrative introduction lasted a full ten minutes and involved only one movement. Almost the entire play involved two characters conversing centre-stage, with only the chorus’ interjections and varied positions to break the monotony. This seems the result of the perils of both writing and staging the same script, as Richard Keith has relied too much on his own words and neglected the representation of the action on stage. Having said this, they did themselves no favours with some largely one-dimensional acting. Lucie Shorthouse as Ismene elicited a snigger from my plus-one for her ‘spitting’ at Creon’s feet, while Giulia Galastro was as wooden as a certain classical horse; a pity considering the potential in her character.

An enterprising script, one cannot help but feel that some livelier acting and independent direction would do the writing more justice.