The issue can be argued on the way home. But I’m not sure such genre-busting approaches work very well in the grand old Duke of York stalls. Unless you’re very tall. There’s not much of an incline and the seats aren’t raked so one can squint between the shoulders of the folks in the next row. I had noticed a number of the audience hurriedly re-locating before the opening. but it was too late for this Reviewer because a very large Fellow dropped into the seat in front of mine just before the action started.

And there was no interval. If I have missed the finer points of the production it may be due to my view of the stage being cut by about 30%. I spent much of the next 80 minutes bobbing to either side of his eclipsing head trying to make sense of the action. Which wasn’t always easy. So forgive me if I missed anything. I hope at least he enjoyed it.

I suppose it’s just possible this may have been deliberate. To divert the cast. Or at least the rows behind me. While I’m happy to give amusement, inevitably many of the details on stage were lost on me while I was providing it.

The striking Set (by Jeremy Herbert) is completely bare. Featuring loud speakers and mic stands on a rotational segment itself. Which allows easy movement of Chorus and Cast. Free use is made of microphones and streams. 

Brie Larson brings a fierce punk energy and focus to Elektra. She has mastered the art of the microphone spit of derision, used every time her stepfather Aegisthus is name-checked. But the text doesn’t offer her or the other actors room to do much more more than walk, talk, glare and cower. I might have missed anything like the ciar that might counterpoint the obscura. But perhaps this was exactly the tone Director Daniel Fish was looking for.