Belt Up's Antigone

Last year, Belt Up stormed the Edinburgh scene with a cavalcade of site-specific shows that won rave reviews. It’s somewhat disappointing therefore that their 2010 Antigone is so drippy. Set without explanation in the 1920s, this is an Antigone more concerned with touchy-feely emotions than decisions of honour.

We enter a humid country garden with bunting and astroturf in the midst of a wake to Oedipus as the unavoidable events leading to Antigone’s death are set in motion. Through an admittedly smooth, if irrelevant, mixture of song, dance and dialogue we see this tragedy unfold as brother is pitted against brother and Antigone and Creon’s battle of wills rolls stutteringly into life.

This is an energetic production by a young company with obvious visual flair. However, they sadly miss the mark in with an overly vague interpretation. Here Antigone lacks any sense of the enormity of her decision, floating about softly like a moony lover or giggling sibling. Creon sits uncomfortably between being an average Joe and a man of status. His position of power is constantly undermined by the inappropriate swearing and colloquialisms that pepper this otherwise highly-wrought text.

Essentially a dry dialogue resting on two deeply earnest characters, Antigone is a difficult play at the best of times. Belt Up’s new translation fails to maximise its few strengths. Any conflict and philosophical tension has been removed in favour of mopey melodies and an under-baked script. Ultimately when Antigone finally dies, we find it hard to care, and perhaps feels slightly grateful.