Penelopedia Review - Move, Odysseus! Margaret Atwood allows Penelope's servants to riot

Atwood's York Theater Royal adaptation of her own novel is being revived with Amelia Bullmore as the sultry Penelope, but it's the eight-piece chorus who pull the strings, and after a summer in which the Odyssey was thrust into the spotlight thanks to Christopher Nolan's blockbuster Homer, it's time to tell the women. The Penelopedia, as the title suggests, is the story of Odysseus' famous faithful wife. But in Margaret Atwood's play, which was written for Sah

After a summer in which the Odyssey took center stage thanks to Christopher Nolan's blockbuster Homer movie, it's time for women to have their say. The Penelopedia, as the title suggests, is the story of Odysseus' famous faithful wife. But in Margaret Atwood's play, adapted for the stage from her own novel, it is also Penelope's brutally murdered handmaidens whose vision is regained. If Penelope's voice is left out, their voices are completely silenced.

The background of this revisionist storytelling is Hades. In Sarah Perks's minimal design, this place is sterile and featureless, deliberately drained of the passion and chaos of life. The thick, blood-red ropes represent the threads woven by Penelope—literally and figuratively—and the ropes used to hang the servants. These oppressed figures form a chorus that acts out episodes from Penelope's life and also interrupts with their bitter take on events. We hear of the marriage of Penelope and Odysseus, his departure for Troy, and the long, long years that followed.

The success of any production depends on the central role of Penelope, who carries many of the narratives, and on the treatment of the multi-role servants. In director Juliet Forster's version, Amelia Bolmore portrays Penelope's angry reserves and her apprehension at her marriage to Odysseus, but her performance sometimes feels stiff and lacks texture. Given Bullmore's comic gifts as a performer, it's surprising that so much of the dark humor comes through in Atwood's lines.

The servants, on the other hand, provide a stark contrast to Penelope's restraint. The energetic eight-member chorus sings, dances and moves through the story, dressed in various costumes like children in dress-up, only to pierce the silliness by reminding them of their fatal fate. At best, there is a hint of a kind of theatrical mischief of knee-high, wise-cracking children, though quite similar to staring or biting. As welcome as this feminist retelling is, this feminist retelling has more potential to hit what it ultimately delivers.