Jackson McHenry, Vulture
“Zeldin, in your program, insists he intends The Other Place to stand independent of its source. But as in the case of many a work whose name director (who is, as my colleague Sara Holdren has pointed out, usually male) asks the daring question, What if this classic had big glass sliding doors?, it’s impossible to ignore the shadow presence of the original. Characters tend to move around in a set pattern as if being pulled by magnets, which is fine for the ritualistic structure of ancient texts but difficult to buy when a sheen of psychological realism is imposed. Annie’s insistence on proper burial rights — so pressing in the context of Sophocles when Antigone attempts to bury her brother Polynices — doesn’t register with the same weight in a contemporary setting, and it puts us at immediate odds with the character. Why would this itinerant progressive backpacking type care so much about her dad’s ashes, except that she’s a faux-Antigone and we need her to? Grief can grip you with strong, irrational impulses, but because there’s no disrespect for the dead in spreading someone’s ashes in a nice little ceremony, Annie’s objections leave you thinking she is less righteous than petulant. And what was the nature of her father’s death that has made discussion of him so taboo? Perhaps for the sake of universality, Zeldin keeps Adam’s past vague, implying he was a tortured, unstable patriarch, not someone who imploded his family name with a transgression on the scale of Oedipus’s own. It’s the wrong approach. Any version of Antigone needs to be powered by the overwhelming force of something big and dark, as if trying to hold back a reservoir of pain on the scale of the Hoover Dam. Instead, late in the evening, Zeldin gives the family a separate revelation. The luridness of that turn, which made some in the audience around me gasp, is one issue, but it’s more that it unsettles the structure of the piece. We thought were in the shadow of one kind of grief, and it’s usurped by another, more pressing one, with little time to process it. Instead of accumulating force, The Other Place buckles and swerves.“