Medea by Euripides 480 to 406 BCE.

As plays go there are few that can stand head and shoulders above this Greek tragedy than Medea drenched in blood after the murder of her beloved sons. She is riddled and racked by guilt remorse and malevolent rage for her once husband who has gone off to another younger women as men so often still now do. In picture houses across the country and across the world we had a feast of drama last night from the National Theatre in London. Helen McCrory in the title role played at full pitch from the start. Going senseless by the betraying of her husband Jason played by a shiftless, weak and rotund Danny Sapani to Kreusa the young virginal women played by Clemmie Sveaas the daughter of Kreon King of Corinth, a supercilious dandie of a King by Martin Turner. The chorus held you spell bound in their lyrical and acrobatic dance routine. The boys were also very good Joel Mcdermott and Jude Pearce. What a night? Scintillating from start to finish as feelings rushed to the surface as the tragedy unfolded - as the gods foretold - it happened before us all. We were all members of the chorus witnesses to the evil deed set before us - we are all accomplices in their terrible murder. We did nothing to stop it happening.