Review: Medea Re-Versed Redefines a Greek Classic in an Exhilarating Production

Before you sigh at the emergence of yet another reimagining of Euripides’ perhaps most notorious play, allow yourself one more opportunity to see it with new eyes at Medea Re-Versed, an electrifying hip-hop spin on the classic Greek play running off-Broadway at the Sheen Center’s Frank Shiner Theater.

Rather than transporting audiences to ancient Greece, the setting is more reminiscent of 1990s Los Angeles. The lighting and sound design by Cha See and Matt Otto fully equips the clubby space with flashing lights and booming bass. Set to a script transposed entirely into hip-hop-style lyrics, some actual numbers are performed. The show’s creator and writer, Luis Quintero, serves as the show’s Emcee, decked out in a baseball cap and bomber jacket, thoughtfully created by costume designer Nicole Wee.

As the tale goes, a scorned woman named Medea has been tossed aside by her cheating husband and the father of her two children, Jason, for whom she once committed an unspeakable act out of loyalty. When Medea is banished from Corinth and granted just one day to depart, she spends her final hours seeking vengeance.

Sarin Monae West performs  Medea’s showstopping monologues like spoken word poetry. Medea’s cheating husband, convincingly played by Stephen Michael Spencer, gives off frat boy energy, condescendingly calling Medea “babe” every couple of beats in a nasal monotone. Their rap battles are epic, offering a back-and-forth dynamic that makes the conflict even more invigorating. Jacob Ming-Trent steps in and out as Creon and Ageus, the latter performance breaking the tension with much-needed comedic relief.

At times, the rhyme schemes can border on corny, with couplets like “I offered you a pomegranate, but you took these palms for granted.” Still, this is but a minor complaint and momentary distraction amidst the otherwise sheer brilliance it takes to adapt Euripides into hip hop beats.

As Medea unravels, we see layers of the character unfold that, though often debated and discussed, are not always as evident in the original text. Medea Re-Versed takes a more empowering look at the character that channels all the buzz about stories and songs of female pain, resentment, and vengeance with phrases like “female rage” and “girlhood” filling comment sections online under videos of television scenes and pop music videos.

In the same vein, Medea repeatedly calls out to the audience, who is at times called out to participate. “You can’t feel my pain, you just look for who to blame.” Toward the end of the play, she admits, “The bruises on my hips were the connection I mistook for his affection.” This line alone is so steeped in real female strife that would draw legions of fans if it were inserted into a pop ballad.

Whether victim or villain, this Medea has a different kind of edge in this production, one that younger audiences can connect with on a deeper level. That’s not just because of the fun beats, but also the thoughtful reshaping of the story. At a talkback held in the lobby following the performance, students were engaged and that this reimagining breathed new life into a classic without losing the basic story and supercharged it for a new generation of theatergoers.