Ovid and the good-time-girls

PLAY REVIEW: OVID'S METAMORPHOSES at Ipswich New Wolsey Theatre

A selection of eccentric Roman myths, a mixture of the familiar and less well-known, cleverly planted in the strange atmosphere of the 1940s, a heady air of desperate pleasure-seeking driven by the keen knowledge of human fragility.

The peculiar time-world of the 1940s complemented Ovid's work well, an atypical decade for a most unusual set of tales. In many respects society in this era was turned on its head, not unlike the Roman Saturnalia festival, when master waited on servant. Women demanded, and received, more equality, becoming a necessary part of the war labour force. Farm hands and factory workers marched off to battle and came back changed, radicalised and emotionally scarred. On the surface wartime hierarchy seems absolute, each rank and division denoting levels of superiority. But on the ground men soon learned that bullets do not discriminate on grounds of race, class or social "status". Formal strictures of the military pushed off-duty soldiers and civilians to revel in what little freedoms remained.

This strange atmosphere proved an ideal counterpart to the sheer alien nature of many of Ovid's tales. A 1940s dance hall scene accompanied the tale of Apollo and Daphne; Zeus saved Io, struck by terror, from Blitz air raids. This edge of death, bubbling beneath the gay 1940s music, neatly explained the excessive libidos of the gods, something our readings of Graeco-Roman mythology often struggle with. Perhaps the divine beings Ovid paints are touched by this mortality, by our short, sweet lives in a similar way to the atmosphere created by war, one of a lack of time, a need for the greatest happiness before we enter the great oblivion. And of course this can only have been heightened by Roman belief in a pale Underworld of shadowy ghosts, and the growing irreligiosity of wartime England.

One of the most memorable tales was that of Theseus. In the 1940s hospital setting the labyrinth became Theseus' mind, an illness which had trapped him within himself, one which he could only escape from by seeking out his greatest fear, the Minotaur. This innovation was a little contrived, but certainly made for unusual theatre.

Unfortunately some aspects of the show were tedious, irritating even. Use of puppets to portray the diminuitive Eros and Mercury's flights was amusing, but over-use soon ended what novelty value there had been. Similarly, use of great panels as screens for character-switching was initially clever, but extended use impressed on us their great weight, heavy, clunky and artificial. Used less these devices would have been far more effective.

In all, the setting proved an ideal match for Ovid's tales, lending an unusual backdrop to match the eccentricity of the stories, and adding depth and explanation. Song and dance displayed the considerable all-round talents of the acting company, while use of clever devices, puppetry and movable screen panels, initially proved amusing. After all, Ovid and Roman mythology are essentially alien, strikingly unusual and foreign by nature.

Pulling them off convincingly for a modern audience is a job not easily done. "Pants on Fire's "Metamorphoses" is a fine achievement, a clever setting neatly showcasing an eclectic selection of ancient tales.