AD: Press Invite. All production image photography by Steve Gregson.
Many of us are familiar with Medusa, one of Greek mythology’s most notorious figures known for turning men into stone with just a look. But for a moment stop to ask yourself – have you ever looked past the diluted version of the tale and thought ‘but why did she get that way’? I know that I certainly hadn’t before seeing Snakehead at The Hope Theatre in Islington.
Snakehead aims to tell Medusa’s tale in her own words: she’s here to tell you what happened, sing some songs, and set the record straight.
The show is descried as a “high volume piece of gig theatre” and this is certainly accurate. As you enter the theatre, you’re greeted with pulsing music which continues for the duration of the 90 minute show and becomes a key part of the performance in a very clever way. You can expect to hear a whole host of musical genres throughout the show ranging from electronica to dark post-punk, although this is not the central element of the piece.
The focus is in fact a monologue delivered expertly by lead Sian Maxwell (The Sea, National Theatre Studios; Worlds Apart in War; Theatr Clwyd), who takes on the role of Medusa or ‘M’. The narrative tells the tale of a relationship that “was not a love story”, of a young woman being swept off her feet by a high-flying businessman and moving away from her old life into his world of glitz and glamour. Throughout the show we have a lot of interesting discussions of class and privilege, city vs country, and ultimately us vs them.
Those familiar with the story of Medusa will have some idea of where the story turns, a beautiful maiden is seduced by Poseidon and shunned by the goddesses that surrounded him. She ultimately is rejected by the man that she loves, and this drives her to becoming the monster that we are all familiar with. We are then taken into an investigation of victimhood, while also investigating the role of the modern media in slut-shaming and victim-blaming when M’s trust is betrayed by her ex-partner. This is particularly relevant in modern society, with public shaming becoming something familiar to many on varying scales of size.
Ultimately, this piece is an excellent example of less is more. From simple costuming to an unassuming yet incredibly clever set design, this allows the words of the piece to shine through. Throughout the show there is some spectacular lighting design, which reflects from mirrors scattered across the floor to transform M from a snakelike figure to an optimistically in love young woman in mere seconds. A particular highlight for me was during a scene taking place on New Year’s Eve, the lights pulsed in a way that simultaneously felt like fireworks and the lights inside a dark club dancefloor.
I also must complement the sound production, which is made up of a new soundtrack by composer Max Welton (Theatre Royal BSE, Spinning Wheel Theatre) and produced by Deputy Artistic Director Ella Dale (The Moors, The Hope Theatre; Past Life, UK Tour). The sound desk was firmly rooted as part of the set design, with mixing happening in real time, which seemed to fit the raw energy of the piece perfectly. My one complaint with the show was that, at times, the sheer size of the energy coming from the music felt overpowering in a space which hosts less than 50 people at a time, but was no reflection on the quality of that music at all. I can see this filling a larger space comfortably without losing any of the intimate elements of the story and allowing the music the space to shine.
While this show may not be to everyone’s tastes, it certainly feels at home in a space like The Hope Theatre. Settled above a small pub in Islington, the punk vibes of the piece fit the theatre well, and is a show that I would recommend to anyone who is interested in Greek mythology or dark post-punk, explosive electronica music. It was truly a unique experience that I won’t forget in a long time.
The show is due to run until 24th June with tickets available from thehopetheatre.com.
