Oedipus, Old Vic Theatre Review

Written by Franco Milazzo for Theatre and Tonic

Disclaimer: Gifted tickets in exchange for an honest review

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“Much-anticipated” is a phrase that is often recklessly bandied about in theatreland. The West End debut of a Hollywood movie star who is more used to staring at green screens than footlights? “Much-anticipated.” A revival of a play that was once raved about by critics now dead, retired, or residing in the blogosphere? “Much-anticipated.” Anything featuring Benedict Cumberbatch? “Much-anticipated.”

Now Rami Malek may not have (yet) played a superhero but there’s no doubting his Hollywood credentials. His turn as the drug-addled hacker Elliot Anderson in the seminal TV series Mr Robot put him on the map while playing Freddie Mercury in biopic Bohemian Rhapsody and Daniel Craig’s final Bond villain has pushed him into the stratosphere. When it was announced a year ago that he would be making his London stage debut as the star of the Old Vic’s Oedipus opposite Indira Varma (who has had leading roles with both DC and Marvel), tickets began selling fast.

Deflating the immediate buzz slightly was the fact the news that the West End would soon have not one but two versions of that same Sophocles tragedy with Mark Strong and Lesley Manville arriving at Wyndham’s Theatre for Robert Icke’s much-delayed take a couple of months earlier. To confuse matters even more, both productions were announced within an hour of each other in January 2024. Ouch. Later on that year, some genius decided that there weren’t enough US stars fronting works by Sophocles and, furthermore, that a critically-derided avant-garde Elektra with Brie Larson should open in the same week as Malek made his bow. Oh, and the Old Vic decided not to explicitly tell everyone that their Oedipus would have dance numbers until last month. Well done, everyone. Applause all round.

Enough of all that drama and back to the one under the microscope. It’s worth mentioning (even if the programme doesn’t) that Malek hasn’t performed in a professional stage production since 2007. There will be some in the audience who were not yet born when Rami last stepped up to the footlights. Surrounded by theatre pros like Varma, how would he fare?

While Icke’s play takes place in the war room of a UK politician, Warchus and Shechter’s take is set somewhere far more traditional. The story opens in the desert kingdom of Thebes where the populace are desperately short of water and are calling out to the gods for rain. The royal family meanwhile are divided between running away and asking the oracle for a sign of how to get those above to turn the taps on again. When guidance is finally sought, the message is clear: King Oedipus must solve the murder of his wife’s ex-husband before the rains will be allowed to return, an investigation that eventually leads to mutilation and tragedy.

The co-directors have made some predictably curious choices. Predictable because they come from such different backgrounds and their compromises have raised important points about the relative appeal and place of theatre and dance in the UK. In one corner, we have the outgoing Old Vic artistic director Matthew Warchus who has won Olivier and Tony awards and has been behind the epic Tim Minchin musicals Matilda and Groundhog Day. On the other, there’s Hofesh Shechter, the bold-as-brass Israeli choreographer who, as the artistic director of his own company, has been the enfant terrible of UK dance for the last couple of decades. Splitting directing duties in theatre is rare (this is not Marvel, Stranger Things or The Matrix after all) but splitting them between two people from different art forms is practically unheard of.

The most curious choice of all seems to be letting Malek adopt a Bible Belt drawl, something which sets him apart from everyone else in the cast. This could be a move to implicitly signify Oedipus as “the outsider” who came in to sweep Queen Jocasta off her feet; if so, why does the only person from Oedipus’ homeland have - like everyone else - in an English cadence? After so long away from the stage, it is a smart move perhaps not to stretch their star’s talents too far. It’s not without some kind of precedent: Shakespeare’s works have plenty of Italian characters but when was the last time any of them were played with a suitable accent?

Shechter is - as ever - Shechter. His choreography is a wonder to behold, full of magnetic physicality. Under some fantastic lighting by Tom Visser, the dancers become luminous beings who pump life into this occasionally meandering plot. Whether flailing under the oppressive heat or celebrating the return of the rains, the sharp and succulent moves pull us in and often throw up more exposition and drama than seen in the script. 

Warchus makes slight nods towards Oedipus becoming a Phillip Marlow-like investigator by dressing him in plain vintage clothing and having the oracle’s messages play out on a spooling tape machine like an episode of Mission: Impossible. Seeing this monarch improbably leafing through box file after box file, though, makes him look more like a PA than a PI. Warchus’ choice of denouement is also a misstep: here, we see Jocasta run away, unrealistically leaving her husband and children behind while her ambitious brother assumes the throne telling everyone that his sister killed herself. For his part, the once-supreme young king Oedipus is left to wander around blinded like Dune’s Paul Atreides. It’s a messy finale that lacks the stunning power of Icke’s interpretation.

Whether London needed two runs at this Sophocles tragedy is debatable but, as they take very different journeys to the same bloody conclusion, it wouldn’t be surprising to see both being nominated for awards.

At Old Vic until 29 March 2025
★ ★ ★ ★