Review: BLOODSPORT: AFTER HELEN OF TROY, Stratford East

After discussing gossip and patriarchy with Anne Boleyn in 1536, Ava Pickett keeps exploring the female spheres through the figure of Helen of Troy in Bloodsport. The war is over, and Helen has returned home. She has been brought back home, to be specific. Her husband is ecstatic, but her former best friend and confidante, Cee, doesn’t take the news well. Pickett reframes the Trojan War, setting it in contemporary Essex, in a play that raises a multitude of intersectionally feminist questions. 

Is a woman ever really allowed to leave her family? How do we come to terms with the compromises we have to make in order to survive? Why do we allow men to have ownership of women? There are so many nuggets of gold in Bloodsport. From the socio-political debate to the universality of mythological themes, it’s undeniable that this is a thought-provoking and incendiary piece of theatre. It’s a real pity that its analyses remain simplistic and sometimes illogical. Though conceptually provocative, it tries a little too hard to be edgy and cool. The reality is that it’s as splashy as it is shallow. 

Pickett gives it a bit of a Greek structure, featuring a chorus in the form of Ethan Moorhouse’s Messenger. His role is probably the most striking and, standing between humour and wisdom, Moorhouse steals the show. Tracksuit and gold chain, he introduces and comments on the events with delectable flair. He draws direct comparisons to Helen’s myth and expands the allegory; this added context acts as a buffer, but ultimately becomes a cheat sheet that forces interpretation. His part is also more lyrical than the rest, creating an intriguing clash with the vernacular of the dialogue. 

Michelle Dockery offers a strong central performance, but once she settles into the role after the first big twist, her delivery turns static, and the thousand-yard stare of the beginning transforms into a focused impassivity. Yet, soaked in blood against Cee’s aptly greige interiors (Polly Sullivan), she’s a sight to behold, exacerbated by the collective decision not to mention her physical or mental state. Director Lisa Spirling imbues every detail with the evident signs of the socially accepted cruelty she’s faced for a decade.

Laura Aikman is quick to judge and slow to forgive as Cee, the picture-perfect Essex wife who’s unjustifiably vapid and mouthy. Not even the knowledge that her husband raped and pillaged her way to Helen is enough to make her take a stand. Mario is equally stereotypical: tattoos on his neck and a loins-first strut, Gerard Monaco is brash and intimidating as Cee’s man. He towers over Jay Taylor’s Marcus in intellect and power, leading with the toxic arrogance of a white man.

In essence, these are your standard consumers of social media-led right-wing propaganda. They do a brilliant job at portraying this type of bigotry. The principal female cast is completed by Maimuna Memon as Dani, who has her own agenda. Memon is impressive, but her character is shackled by her own ideals. The result is another narrow portrayal.

Bloodsport wants to exist in a space where it’s really neither political nor dramatic. Tragedy may run in its veins, but the writing lacks both tension and urgency, preferring to lean into sparse and noncommittal bursts of intensity. The conversations that start are more interesting than the play itself. The blame game it presents is enticing, but we don’t get the opportunity to excavate the circumstances that precede the plot enough to bolster its importance. 

The framework of Pickett’s world-building is not very solid, and asking one too many questions has the story on the verge of collapse. It’s quirky enough for the easily pleased feminists who are happy to skim the surface of the discourse and enjoy a fiery night at the theatre, but not adequately charged to be a convincing harangue. It’s flawed and inconsistent, but it will certainly get you talking.

Bloodsport: After Helen of Troy runs at Stratford East until 10 October.

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