I really don't view myself as a suicidal person. However, during a recent viewing of this production, I found myself repeatedly wishing for death. Why? First, the taping of the play is horrendous. Truly, I've seen better use of a camera in family home videos. Now, I can already imagine people gnashing their teeth at this and defending this production by saying it's a taping of a stage play and is subject to some limitations. That really isn't an excuse. I've seen several taped stage productions and most of them outshine this one without even trying. The blocking is horrible, the introduction of Creon is so poorly shot that it's kind of sad, and there are times when the actors face away from the audience and--apparently--whatever microphones they were using.
Let's get into the performances. I understand that some of these performances were critically acclaimed and received awards. If those critics and handlers of awards saw anything resembling the performances I saw ... I can only guess that they enjoyed abundant access to coke in the 1980s.At first, I thought that the actor playing the maid was suffering from Parkinson's or some other horrible ailment. Then I was subjected to the other female performances. They all seem to think making wild gestures and ringing every damn syllable dry with trembling voices makes a good performance. (Dana Carvey used to do an impression that perfectly resembles these performances but I've forgotten the name of the celebrity he was supposed to be sending up.) Fortunately, the guys, with the exception of the fellow playing Creon, didn't seem to be putting much effort into anything, which mercifully gives us some respite from the overacting of the ladies. Perhaps the worst thing I can say about the performances of the men is that I instantly recognized Jason as Edward Montgomerey from Dharma and Greg. In my mind, an actor should be able to give very contrasting performances when playing a Greek hero and a yuppie in San Francisco during the late 20th century. He failed that test.
In summation, watching this marked a few hours off my life that I will never get back.
Let's get into the performances. I understand that some of these performances were critically acclaimed and received awards. If those critics and handlers of awards saw anything resembling the performances I saw ... I can only guess that they enjoyed abundant access to coke in the 1980s.At first, I thought that the actor playing the maid was suffering from Parkinson's or some other horrible ailment. Then I was subjected to the other female performances. They all seem to think making wild gestures and ringing every damn syllable dry with trembling voices makes a good performance. (Dana Carvey used to do an impression that perfectly resembles these performances but I've forgotten the name of the celebrity he was supposed to be sending up.) Fortunately, the guys, with the exception of the fellow playing Creon, didn't seem to be putting much effort into anything, which mercifully gives us some respite from the overacting of the ladies. Perhaps the worst thing I can say about the performances of the men is that I instantly recognized Jason as Edward Montgomerey from Dharma and Greg. In my mind, an actor should be able to give very contrasting performances when playing a Greek hero and a yuppie in San Francisco during the late 20th century. He failed that test.
In summation, watching this marked a few hours off my life that I will never get back.