The latest touring production of The Bacchae by Euripides, presented by Company of Wolves at The Studio at Festival Theatre in Edinburgh under the umbrella of Capital Theatres, is a bold and strikingly modern interpretation of a play that is already more than 2,400 years old. Written and performed by Ewan Downie and originally directed by the late Ian Spink, this stripped back solo performance attempts something rather daring, to compress one of Greek tragedy’s most disturbing and philosophically rich stories into a highly physical, ritualistic piece of theatre.
At its best, the production is undeniably compelling. Downie’s performance is intense and committed, shifting rapidly between narration, character and movement in a way that suggests an actor channelling a whole chorus rather than merely playing a single role. The staging is deliberately minimal, relying on sound, light and the performer’s physical presence to conjure the mythic landscape of Thebes and the unsettling arrival of the god Dionysus. It is theatre that trusts in the power of suggestion rather than spectacle, and that restraint gives the work a hypnotic quality.
The creative team surrounding Downie deserves credit for shaping this stark theatrical language. Designer Alisa Kalyanova and sound designer and dramaturg Anna Porubcansky help create a world that feels at once ancient and contemporary. Flickers of ritual, chant and movement evoke the primal themes at the heart of Euripides’ play, ecstasy, repression and the dangerous power of belief.
Lighting plays a particularly important role in establishing this atmosphere. Designed by Katharine Williams, the lighting is both simple and striking. At the start of the performance four cage like structures stand on stage, each containing a fluorescent light tube. These tubes shift colour throughout the piece, subtly altering the emotional temperature of the performance and reflecting shifts in mood and intensity. It is an elegant solution that fits perfectly with the show’s stripped down aesthetic. At moments the lights pulse or flash in more aggressive bursts, heightening the sense of ritual frenzy that runs through the drama. These effects are powerful, though audiences should be aware that the production includes flashing lights, on the evening attended there was no prior warning, something that might be worth addressing in future performances. Nevertheless, the lighting design is one of the highlights of the production and demonstrates how carefully the visual language of the piece has been considered.
The production also carries a poignancy in being dedicated to Ian Spink, whose influence as a choreographer is evident in the work’s strong physical vocabulary. Movement and rhythm often carry as much meaning as the text itself.
Euripides’ original drama tells the story of Dionysus returning to Thebes to assert his divinity, only to bring about the horrifying downfall of King Pentheus and his own mother Agave in a frenzy of religious mania. It is a story rich in symbolism and moral ambiguity. In Downie’s condensed adaptation, however, that narrative sometimes fractures into fragments.
The opening moments establish the myth clearly enough, the mortal woman Semele, her encounter with Zeus and the birth of Dionysus, but thereafter the storytelling becomes increasingly elliptical. For viewers already familiar with the original play, this may feel like a fascinating distillation, a ritual retelling that highlights key images and emotional beats. But for those encountering the myth for the first time, the performance can at times verge on the impenetrable.
None of this diminishes the evident skill or conviction behind the production. Indeed, the very boldness of the adaptation is part of its appeal. What it does suggest, however, is that audiences might benefit from a little advance preparation. A quick read through of Euripides’ original, or even a short synopsis of the myth, would likely transform the experience.
As a piece of contemporary theatre, The Bacchae is inventive, muscular and visually striking. As storytelling, it can sometimes feel opaque. But for those willing to meet it halfway, or to arrive with a little knowledge of the myth, it offers a powerful reminder that ancient drama can still provoke, unsettle and inspire modern audiences
Reviewer: Greg Holstead
Reviewed: 9th March 2026
North West End UK Rating:
Running time – 50 mins