NEW YORK — Beware of a petulant young god burning with vengeance, especially if you've grievously insulted his dead mother and denied his godly existence. This sounds like a simple enough caution, but some rulers of the ancient city of Thebes just didn't get it.
Greek tragedian Euripides spelled out the inevitable grim downfall of this royal family and the city they founded in his fifth-century classic, "The Bacchae," on view at Central Park's outdoor Delacorte Theater through Sunday.
JoAnne Akalaitis and Philip Glass apply their considerable talents to interpreting the Nicholas Rudall translation of this ancient tragedy with relevance for a 21st century audience. A strong cast, eerie choreography, and lively special effects enrich the music-laden, occasionally humorous tale of power struggles, hubris and the futility of resistance to change.
Dionysus/Bacchus, the hedonistic god of sensuous delights, is the son of Zeus and Theban mortal Semele, who was burnt alive when Zeus showed her his godly form. Now a young adult, Dionysus has come to the dying city of Thebes to avenge his mother. Thebes is somberly represented by John Conklin's gray, seriously cracked stage and austere metal bleachers sloping down to a heap of large, broken paving stones.
Despite being the god of wine and pleasure, Dionysus is seriously gunning for his mortal relatives, especially cousin Pentheus (Anthony Mackie), who's the arrogant and youthful king of Thebes, and his mother's three sisters, all of whom refuse to admit that Semele had a child with Zeus.
Jonathan Groff plays the androgynous Dionysus like a petulant rock star, easily capturing the feckless charm of the god's earthly guise. His characterization as an amiable fool works well for most of the play, as Dionysus beguiles Pentheus into trusting him. However, Groff lacks godly gravitas when events call for his character to become majestic and fearsome.
The two protagonists share a grandfather, revered Cadmus, founder of Thebes. George Bartenieff is suitably world-weary as the former king, who repeatedly warns heedless Pentheus against the folly of spurning Dionysus. Cadmus is aided by his longtime friend, the blind prophet Teiresias, elegantly played by Andre De Shields. Both men know enough to go with the flow and worship the new god, who has already bewitched the women of Thebes.
Agave (Joan MacIntosh), the mother of Pentheus, and her sisters, have left their homes and are said to be running in a wild pack in the nearby mountains, behaving like "birds of prey."
Mackie is charming as the stubborn Pentheus, who remains determined to be rid of this false god who has somehow put a spell on the Theban women.
A dozen sensuous Bacchae constitute the Chorus, a talented group led by Karen Kandel. Beautiful and lascivious, they prowl about the stage, chanting, singing and performing seductive choreography by David Neumann. Their blazing red and orange, Asian-inspired costumes by Kaye Voyce reflect the success of Dionysus' recruitment of followers across Asia. The colors also hint at the hellish nature of what's ahead.
Glass' choral score is hypnotically foreboding. Atmospheric lighting design by Jennifer Tipton and clever pyrotechnics add to the increasing sense of doom, as events build toward a gory finale. Thunder cracks, smoke billows and red fire flares underground. Real flames erupt onstage when Dionysus finally reveals the horrific nature of his plans.
MacIntosh has a heavy job, appearing in a lengthy denouement, still bewitched and bragging about her superhuman hunting prowess. A horrified Cadmus must show Agave the ghastly nature of her hunting trophy, as MacIntosh heartbreakingly transforms back to her real self, now devastated. As a final blow, Dionysus mercilessly throws them into exile, coldly exclaiming, "Zeus decreed these things long ago."
Even at just 90 minutes in length, the production leaves the audience emotionally drained, pondering the ancient message that man is essentially powerless against forces he cannot control.