Playwright Anna Ziegler gives a familiar figure from classical Greek tragedy a fierce makeover in her new drama Antigone (this play I read in high school). Opening Wednesday in its world premiere at the Public Theater, the drama retells the 2,400-year story from a modern viewpoint that provides its protagonist with a forceful voice and makes its moral crisis more understandable a problem than in Sophocles’ times.
Most readers probably are aware of Antigone, so let’s scarcely detail the preceding Oedipus tragedy and subsequent war that also killed the brothers of Antigone and her sister Ismene, who watch Creon, their uncle, mount the unsteady throne of Thebes. Sophocles then sets Antigone in fatal conflict with Creon over her need to give her rebellious sibling an honorable burial.
Here, partly because the dusty issue of honorable burial rites carries relatively little weight in Western society today, Ziegler’s modern-dress variation sees Antigone pregnant by her fiancé Haemon (Creon’s son) and intent on getting an abortion. The offspring of an incestuous union, Antigone considers herself an “abomination” and refuses to extend her bloodline. Meanwhile, Creon, a weak soul straining to be a masterful ruler over a chaotic Thebes, decrees a rigid, puritanical policy that outlaws abortion by pain of death. Two guesses what Antigone does.
When Creon demands Antigone at least make a public apology for her actions, she calmly declares, “I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong.”
Bringing the story into closer contemporary focus, the playwright provides a guide identified in the program as “Chorus.” A pregnant, single woman in her young middle age who speaks directly to viewers, this character furnishes the Antigone 101 details as needed throughout the two-act play. More to the point of the drama, the self-deprecating Chorus initially presents herself as a meek, apologetic soul who eventually is inspired by Antigone’s defiant saga and “my body is the body of every woman” avowal to assert her own distinctive voice.
The drama’s beatific conclusion about generations of mothers and daughters does not resonate so much for me. But the greater part of Antigone (this play I read in high school) provides a thought-provoking, darkly funny, even lyrical at times ride through a classic everybody thinks they know. A rebellious young royal in a motorcycle jacket and short plaid skirts, Antigone suffers anxious moments but more usually appears confident, reckless even, in her decisions and frank conversation. As this daughter of Oedipus likes to put it: “Isn’t making drama like, our inheritance?”
While giving Antigone a good deal to say and to do, the play packs plenty of supplementary content in little over two hours as it also fairly studies the anxious Creon’s tough dilemma as a king, glances at a possibly bisexual Haemon and his ties to both his dad and would-be bride, affirms Ismene’s devotion to her sister and finally blesses Chorus with a positive message. A subtlety to the story that Ziegler implies is how these people are still living in a state of emotional shock over their recent Oedipus nightmare of incestuous horror, suicides and warfare and are not behaving as rationally as they might.
That impression is merely one among many thoughts fostered by the play and its production swiftly and smartly directed by Tyne Rafaeli. The show is staged in what was known as the Anspacher but recently redubbed the Barbaralee Theater for a current donor; a space Public regulars know as the thrust stage viewed from stadium seating angles; perhaps the Public’s most magical room. The director and scenic designer David Zinn paint it all black, anchoring the necessarily fluent environs with a brown and black herringbone floor above which Victorian-style gas chandeliers glow white and gold. Pieces of vintage Empire furniture arrive as needed, as well as modern items such as a security gate. Designer Jen Schriever’s lighting further assists with the drama’s speedy flow of scenes, accenting seedier parts of Thebes in smoky reds. Characters are dressed appropriately in later twentieth century fashions by designer Enver Chakartash. The sound design and compositions created by Daniel Kluger provide clear voices, apt music and believable dramatic effects. The stage choreography of many moving parts is smoothly executed.
Likewise, the performances contribute greatly to the effectiveness of the play. Few artists can sweetly engage an audience’s confidence like Celia Keenan-Bolger, and she is perfectly suited to be Chorus, both as the narrator and a woman terribly unsure of herself. In striking contrast Susannah Perkins cooly depicts a haunted, yet mostly fearless Antigone who understands her uncle’s position but remains staunchly defiant. Somehow, Tony Shalhoub manages to make his sad-eyed, soft-voiced Creon the most touching figure in the story. Haley Wong’s silken Ismene and Calvin Leon Smith’s glossy Haemon reveal their worried true selves behind the official portraits. Various bumbling cops, palace guards, abortion parlor proprietors and nice hook-ups are portrayed, sometimes very drolly indeed, by Dave Quay, Katie Kreisler and Ethan Dubin.
Antigone (this play I read in high school) opened March 11, 2026, at the Public Theater and runs through March 29. Tickets and information: publictheater.org
