On the anniversary of the death of their father, two sisters reunite at the family home after a period of estrangement. Their uncle is attempting a fresh start, but one of the sisters threatens to shatter this peace, demanding justice for the pain she carries. Guilt, grief, and greed battle it out as the family goes to war over dreams of their future, and visions of their past.
“The Other Place” is a far looser adaptation and update. Beyond the too cute name changes — Annie/Antigone, Chris/Creon, Erica/Eurydice and the soothsayer Terry/Tiresias (Jerry Killick) — “The Other Place” plays like an improv exercise in which actors, who are only vaguely familiar with the Sophocles classic, are put on a stage with an urn full of ashes and directed, “To now gives us ‘Antigone.’”
Yet The Other Place, like many other attempts to modernize the Greeks, has a hole where the ancient gods, fates and rituals should be. Compared to Antigone’s insistence on honoring the dead, Annie’s protest has risibly low stakes; just as an Oedipus without oracles is reduced to the story of a preposterously unlikely and monstrous bummer, Antigone without deeply rooted righteous principles is just the story of a mentally ill woman who can’t give up her father’s ghost. Compensatorily, Zeldin fills out the story with a theme of sexual transgression that emerges too suddenly to deliver the neomythic familial drama of, say, A View from the Bridge, and whose denouement is triggered by a stage convention—the coupling of an implausible indiscretion and an inopportune entrance—that is less classical than cliché.
| 2026 | Off-Broadway |
Off-Broadway |
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