Memnon: as the gods will it

Reluctant warriors

“Memnon” at the Getty Villa, a review

by Bondo Wyszpolski

Every September, for nearly two decades, the Getty Villa has presented a new rendition of an ancient Greek or Roman play, some of them comedies, some of them tragedies, and the performances take place in the courtyard between the outdoor amphitheater and the entrance to the museum. Gods and goddesses, heroes and heroines, they’ve all paraded before us. This year, however, “Memnon,” a co-production of the Getty and the Classical Theatre of Harlem, is the first time we’re encountering a play that’s not based on an extant text.

Memnon was an Ethiopian king who brought an army of 10,000 men to Troy after the Trojans have spent 10 years in a stalemate while attempting to repel the Greeks (the Achaeans) who’ve laid siege to the city mainly because their beauty queen, Helen, was abducted by Paris, and they want her back.

It’s entirely possible that Memnon, mentioned several times in “The Iliad,” may have been the subject of a few plays, but if so none have survived. Thinking that he deserved to be brought in from the cold, as it were, director Carl Cofield and playwright Will Power put their heads together and “Memnon” is the result, and quite a satisfying one at that.

On the surface, the play seems as authentic as those which have already weathered two millenniums. Power sought to emulate the original meter of classical Greek drama by using iambic hexameter as opposed to dactyl hexameter.

As mentioned, this war has been a slugfest for 10 long years, and as the story begins it’s three days since Hector, the princely son of King Priam, was laid to rest, having been slain by Achilles and, insult to injury, having his corpse dragged around the city walls. We’re informed of this by Polydamas (Daniel José Molina), who delivers an opening monologue that scared me a little because it’s so wordy. It also seems rather Shakespearean, and I wonder if we interpret classical drama through Elizabethan eyes.

With Hector kaput, things don’t look so good for Troy, sort of like having Shohei Otani on the injured players list right before the World Series; or as Priam says, “So goes Hector, so goes this war.”

Apart from filling in the backstory, Polydamas is trying to convince Priam (Jesse J. Perez) to ring up Memnon (Eric Berryman) and ask him for military assistance. Although Memnon is Priam’s nephew, he nixes the ideas and says that Memnon “is us only in lineage not in spirit,” which may not necessarily be true. What emerges, despite the kinship, is that there’s some bad blood between the two men, and that’s because — during a much earlier phase of the war — Priam was planning to surrender Memnon to the Greeks in order for them to keep Hercules from bashing down their walls. Memnon was none too pleased when word of this came to his ears.

But Polydamas persists, and Helen herself chimes in, and so Priam relents. Memnon doesn’t really forgive his uncle, but he arrives with his vast army. Of course, with just five actors in this play (and two of them doing double-duty), we have to imagine the nearby presence of the warriors — perhaps they’re gathered down below in the parking structure or are waiting by the shore across Pacific Coast Highway.

From his discourse and how he comports himself, we sense that Memnon (as Berryman portrays him) is an even-tempered and conscientious warrior-king. Robert Graves says that Memnon “was black as ebony, but the handsomest man alive, and like Achilles wore armor forged by Hephaestus.” But Memnon is also a reluctant fighter: “Once I slaughtered 200 men myself,” he says, “in one single battle. Not proud of that.”

He explains why he left the first time, reminded “that Troy and I were not the same, that I was Troy but not fully Trojan, kin and not kin.” Priam apologizes. Not one of my finer moments, he says, referring to his earlier scheme to sell Memnon short. Well then, Memnon replies, I’ll serve you for just two days and then I’m taking the gang and going home.

It’s a familiar story: When the top dog is in town there are always up-and-coming pups ready to take his place. And so Antilochus (Molina in his second role), son of the great warrior Nestor (Perez, second role also), challenges Memnon to single-handed combat. Now, I don’t know about you, but if I’d been told that someone had once slaughtered 200 men, all part of a day’s work, I’d think twice about taking up arms against him. Memnon sees that the kid is hardly a serious contender, and says so. But once Antilochus delivers the first blow he’s sealed his own fate. Nestor pleads for Memnon to spare his son’s life, ultimately to no avail. Nestor then vows to avenge the lad’s death, but the Ethiopian king isn’t about to parry swords with an old man. So this is when Nestor calls on Achilles, a heavyweight contender in his own right, as we well know. But Achilles also looks askance at this endless cycle of revenge killing.

All right, he agrees at last, but with about the same level of enthusiasm as someone being asked to empty cat litter, I’ll meet this Memnon and make short order of him. Hold your horses, says Nestor, this fellow Memnon is no ordinary foe, and he points out that Memnon’s shield was also made by Hephaestus, the god of fire, who isn’t forging shields for just anyone. He then describes the shield in such detail that you have to wonder why it’s not already hanging in some museum. Achilles is impressed and now admits: This may be my greatest fight.

The scene switches to Memnon and Helen (Andrea Patterson), the warrior confessing that he’s tired of all this killing: “Even in victory, men slaughtered.” Nevertheless, Helen urges him on. Where’s your heart? And he, rather testily, retorts: Where’s your conscience? — for Helen is assumed to be the sole cause of all this bloodshed.

This brief exchange allows Cofield and Power to provide Helen with a few lines in defense of her predicament. Yes, I’m cursed, she says, but what’s at the root of this ongoing conflict is not so much Helen herself but men’s ego and pride, with the woman herself relegated to the status of property or trophy. In other words, she’s more of a pawn to be wrangled over, and this is important because other characters in this play also sense, if not fully realize, that they are playthings in the hands of the gods and subject to the whims of fate. There’s an anti-war sentiment here, brought to the surface just enough for us to grasp the tragedy of the situation as it ensnares each character.

The showdown, as such, is an impressively choreographed fight (by Emmanuel Brown) between two mighty warriors, a fight in which only one will prevail. But since this is Memnon’s play, it’s his brief soliloquies we hear as he and Achilles cross blades. And it’s quite a duel, replete with some “Matrix”-like slow motion. Off on the sidelines, Helen entreats Zeus to let Memnon win. “Kill him, Achilles!” says Nestor; “End him, Memnon!” says Helen. And who emerges victorious?

You may have already guessed the answer. “No victory here,” says the one left standing.

The play is tight and succinct, apart from a couple of expository monologues, and runs just 80 minutes with no intermission. In addition to the five actors there are three dancers (courtesy of EMERGE125), billed as the chorus, and they are performed by Holly Hwang Belshaw, Kat or Katherine Files, and Jenna Kulacz. Occasionally they wordlessly fill in various background roles as handmaidens and sentries and so on.

Apart from Cofield and Power, the production team includes choreographer Tiffany Rea-Fisher, scenic designer Riw Rakkulchon, costume designer Celeste Jennings, composer and sound designer David R. Molina, projection designer Yee Eun Nam, and lighting designer Brandon Baruch, among others.

Not all of the plays presented outdoors at the Getty Villa have been memorable (insofar as memory serves), but “Memnon” ranks among the finest, particularly in that all of the actors are convincing in their roles: Memnon appears noble and wise, Achilles looks strong, Helen is attractive; and so bravo, too, for the casting.

Memnon is being performed through Sept. 28 each Thursday, Friday, and Saturday evening at 8 p.m. Tickets vary slightly: $45 Thursday ($40 seniors and students Thursday only), $50 Friday, and $55 Saturday. Audiences are invited to arrive two hours early because there are dining options, one that’s a bit upscale on weekends, and another which consists of grabbing a boxed item or two from the cafe, such as the Moussaka with Bechamel Sauce ($26.50) or Grilled Vegetable Panini ($19.50). There’s a specialty cocktail called The Glorious Shield, set at $15, which is an Ethiopian honey wine that’s even mentioned by Nestor in the play. I won’t say it isn’t tasty, but you can get a better one in Little Ethiopia on Fairfax. And when you do, raise a glass for King Memnon.
For information and tickets, call (310) 440-7300 or visit getty.edu. ER