The Stratford Theatre Review: Erin Shields’ Ransacking Troy
By Ross
Most of us have encountered and engaged with the tale of the Trojan War—whether through reading one or both of Homer’s great epics, The Iliad and The Odyssey, written around the mid-8th century BCE; through adaptations on film or stage (one of my favorites being Trojan Girls at the Factory Theater); or perhaps through the famous tragedy The Trojan Women. That play, written in 415 BCE and also translated as The Women of Troy, offers a powerful commentary on the costs of war through the lens of women and children. This rich history is the foundation for the latest adaptation, the phenomenally vibrant and vivid Ransacking Troy, masterfully written by playwright Erin Shields (Soulpepper’s Queen Goneril), now playing at the Stratford Festival.
It’s a must-see production—vital and intricate, yet sharply candid and creative—that deftly imagines an altered vantage point to understand Homer’s tale from a less male-dominated perspective. Echoed in the arena of the Tom Patterson Theater, a series of vases—each as distinctive as the women who enter and bear them away—shapes the surprising crashing that soon follows. This play is epic in its historic proportions, but in its reclaiming of this Greek tale, it also becomes a modern collective crash of transformation and realignment that, as directed compassionately and expertly by Jackie Maxwell (Coal Mine’s Infinite Life), comes to epic life on stage thanks to a cast of nine fantastically talented actors, forging a deeply reimagined, distinctly feminist story—a story that is as individual as each character, and that will forever live rent-free in your theatrical mind and memory.
These women are tired of waiting for their warring husbands to return home, and as ignited by the passionate appeal of Penelope, miraculously well played by the radiant Maev Beaty (Stratford’s Anne of Green Gables; Much Ado About Nothing), the band of women form a united and authentically human front that is both honest and engaging. After convincing the regal Queen Clytemnestra, captivatingly portrayed by Irene Poole (Stratford’s Cymbeline), who opens (and closes) the play, a shift in perspective occurs. The narrative moves from the angry men waging a ten-year siege on Troy after a Trojan prince elopes with a married Greek girl, to the heroines working together to reclaim and assert their newfound power. Working together for a restructuring of society, their new goal is to claim and keep their newly discovered power and perseverance, and to end this ego-fueled war that has gone all far too long.
The cast of enlightening and engaging figures, namely Beaty’s Penelope (Odysseus); Poole’s Clythemnestra, Iphegenia (Agamemnon); Helen Belay (Tarragon’s Come Home: The Legend of Daddy Hall) as Electra, Chryses, Thrasymedes; Sarah Dodd (Stratford’s Twelfth Night) as Galax, Anax, Andromache, Hector, Old Woman, Greater Ajax; Ijeoma Emesowum (Stratford’s Les Belles-Soeurs) as Psamathe, Briseis, Trojan Soldier, Antilochus, Circe, Cassandra; Caitlyn MacInnis (Drayton’s BeeHive) as Cur, Hecamede, Lesser Ajax, Trojan Soldier; Yanna McIntosh (Stratford’s The Winter’s Tale) as Eurydice, Hecuba, Nestor; Marissa Orjalo (Stratford’s London Assurance) Hermione, Menelaus; and Sara Topham (Stratford’s Hedda Gabler) as Aegiale, Helen, Cowering Woman, (Diomedes); stand tall and dynamic, delivering a powerful bliss to it all. They speak of sacrifice, grief, and mourning as they wait for this war to end, surveying the pain that has been inflicted on their society. It’s as wonderfully engaging as it is poetic, and at times, hilarious, with Beaty leading the charge with her exquisite comedic delivery, bold presence, and captivating energy.
But their prayers of salvation have not been answered by the Gods, so they rally forth together, boarding the one remaining ship—left behind by the men because of its weakness—and set sail in hopes of persuading the men, both Greek and Trojan, to abandon their vengeful war and hope for glory, and return home. But Shields’ women are more than just their historic figurines. They also symbolize a new world order—based on modern ideals of equality and equity—standing as complex representatives of the modern women’s movement. In this ongoing struggle, inequality remains the battleground, and the ownership of their bodies and the right to their power are still fiercely debated, not yet fully granted.
Difficult questions are being asked, both endless and wise, casting a riveting, inventive, and ingenious aura over Shield’s spectacularly well-written play, unpacking a carefully crafted exploration of this tightly delivered female perspective. It is layered with meaning, both modern and generational, as these women of various ages form unions, but also clash over what lies ahead for them if and when the conflict is resolved. Delivered strongly on a stage that is equally fluid and dynamic, passionately crafted by set and costume designer Judith Bowden (Shaw’s Tons of Money), with focused and ferocious lighting by Michael Walton (Stratford’s Rent), backed up by the emotional composing of Deanna Choi (Coal Mine’s Appropriate) and delivered effectively by sound designer Thomas Ryder Payne (Coal Mine’s People, Places and Things), Ransacking Troy navigates wave after wave of compelling narratives about women from a variety of perspectives working together for a common goal of equality and respect.
Beaty and Poole form a compelling and powerful partnership that encounters disruption and repair like almost every marriage or union around. It’s forever vibrant and compelling, roped and tied with complex dynamics that are unpacked with profound engagement with all the others. They are the standout leaders of the group, anchoring the boat with their portrayals. But they are only part and parcel of a more commanding formulation, of strong and opinionated women who demand change, respect, and partnership, rather than domination and dismissal. Sara Topham, specifically, is astonishing as the sex-positive and profound Aegiale, as well as the beautiful and headstrong Helen, a woman who embraces her beauty from a place of power and privilege, knowing the costs of desire as well as its downfalls.
Each framing entices a profound contemplation that bridges gaps and divides within our society and our understanding of women— including non-binary individuals and diverse sexual orientations—through the unity of its stellar cast members. It unpacks the screaming of audacious beasts that men fall prey to, as well as the lightly processed mesmerizing lotus blossom hypnosis that befalls all who gaze within its warm glow. It’s a far-too-quick nod to our society’s mad obsession with our devices that shifts away all too easily with a parental snatch and grab. Oh, if only it were that easy, says almost every parent or partner in the space. Yet, each of these moments casts its spell on us. In the second half of this almost three-hour play (2:41 with one intermission), some of these more captivating images and ideas demand an entirely new act—one to spark the conversation, and another to fully immerse ourselves within it. But when the play finally locks its gaze on the elusive prize, these women never falter, and they most certainly do not disappoint.
“I feel your anger,” one of these magnificent women says to another as a debate of epic proportions unpacks conflicting frameworks around feminism and desire. And I could not look away. The ending slips a bit on its ambitious sea legs, almost sliding into the dark waves that surround this daring boat. Still, when we finally understand that it doesn’t end in the way it was “supposed to happen” or the way we all wanted it to go, we can’t help but be awed by the audacious and courageous undertaking that both Shields and the Stratford Festival have climbed on board to deliver. Ransacking Troy is fiercely honest and richly nuanced, demanding that we pay attention to the names and faces of the women who fought for change. It not only invites us to extend our hands so they don’t get washed away, but to draw them in, to embrace and incorporate their stories into our consciousness in ways I never imagined stepping into this powerful production.
