Theatre Review : Past, Future Connect in ‘Antigone’

The story of Antigone, daughter of Oedipus, may seem a bit distant to modern audiences. So French playwright Jean Anouilh created his own, updated version of the play (the third in Sophocles’ Oedipus trilogy) using idiomatic 20th Century language and sensibilities.

At Fullerton College’s Bronwyn Dodson Theatre, director Robert Jensen has taken the conceit one step further: His version, called “Antigone 3000,” is set on the Planet Thebes in the year 3000.

It’s sort of like looking at the tragedy through both ends of a telescope at once, and it puts a very tight focus on the drama’s insights and values. Jensen’s simplistic future society--at the end of a dynastic era and just before rebirth into a Golden Age--echoes the same societal and political woes as existed four millennia before.

The forces are the same: the battle between political expediency, and moral law and human dignity. But the lesson of the staging is that the human race rarely learns anything because it rarely pays much attention to its history.

On entering the theater, one is asked by a guard of this future world to “step to the red line and prepare to be scanned.” Once it is ascertained that the audience members pose no threat, they are led into Emperor Creon’s arena, where other guards are posted about the space. One suddenly finds oneself in a different time frame, looking through a time-mirror that is wavy and contorted, like those in a fun house.

When the images settle, and the Chorus (Bidalia E. Albanese, Gregory Gateley) begins to bring the viewer into the action, the past and the future softly and quietly become the present. These are people of our own time, though their story has its roots in a dim past.

Antigone (Jenni-Lynn McMillin) must bury the body of her brother, whom her uncle Creon (Kyle Jones) has defeated during an uprising. Unburied, the brother’s spirit will be doomed to wander the Earth forever. But burial of the body is against Creon’s edict and would mean death for Antigone.

The director has woven the three threads of time neatly and effectively and has kept the performances naturalistic, to the advantage of both Anouilh’s intent and the success of this further mixture.

*

McMillin is a feisty Antigone, a daughter of emperors with a powerful will to stake her life on the right of individual morality. Her big confrontation scene with her uncle is moving, honest and theatrical. Jones’ Creon matches her spark for spark, and his poetic emperor has just enough of a soft edge to temper his steel-like center.

As the officious nurse, Diana Green pointedly manages a flat vocal delivery that is interesting and gives a truthful reality to the characterization. Patrick Goddard is a Romeo-like Haemon, Antigone’s betrothed, with a sudden flame of passion in his final defiance of his father, Creon. Darri Kristin plays Antigone’s sister Ismene properly and effectively as beautiful but dumb.

The supporting cast is just fine. As Creon’s android Page, Joel Gladwell’s mechanistic movement and attitude are well-oiled and calibrated. Also particularly notable is Carl Lund’s Soldier No. 1, both ingratiating and funny when apologizing to Creon for not noticing the body’s first burial, and empathetic when calming Antigone just before her doom.

The technical work on this show is impressive, too, especially Scott B. Cavin’s complex setting, Sam Brezarich’s intricate, flawless lighting, Mela Hoyt-Heydon’s futuristic costuming and Jim Book’s big-brother sound design.

* “Antigone 3000,” the Bronwyn Dodson Theatre, Fullerton College, Chapman Avenue and Lemon Street, Fullerton. Thursday-Saturday, Tuesday-May 8, 8 p.m. $5-$8. (714) 871-8101. Running time: 1 hours, 40 minutes. Jenni-Lynn McMillin: Antigone

Kyle Jones: Creon

Patrick Goddard: Haemon

Diana Green: Nurse

Bidalia E. Albanese: Chorus

Gregory Gateley: Chorus

Darri Kristin: Ismene

Carl Lund: Soldier No. 1

Joel Gladwell: Page

Hollie Whitney: Messenger

A Fullerton College Fine Arts Division production of Jean Anouilh’s adaptation of Sophocles’ tragedy, directed by Robert Jensen. Scenic design: Scott B. Cavin. Lighting design: Sam Brezarich. Costume design: Mela Hoyt-Heydon. Choreographer: Bidalia E. Albanese. Combat choreography: Matt Dumas, K.C. Mercer. Sound design: Jim Book. Makeup/hair/wig design: Lisa Rohr, Hollie Whitney. Video projection design: Gavin Carlton, Jay Goldstein, Mike Miller. Scenic artist/property design: Barbara Meyer. Stage manager: Todd Geer.