not that i care about star ratings as you all know, but i do feel like i gave this an """"extra star"""" because of the necessary inadequacy of this play as a read experience. what makes this play necessary, what gives it the right to exist, is that it activates one of the most crucial aspects of ovid's metamorphoses that remains dormant as a poem—the bodies! when you get right down to it, when you want to reduce the metamorphoses in the most prosaic way possible, it's a poem about Weird Things Happening To Our Bodies; it's about how bodies can't really contain everything that happens to a human, or aren't good at describing and representing the emotional experience of being human. Or Something. so that's where a play comes in; that's where mary zimmerman comes in. finally a physical experience of the poem, bodies and all! but when you read that, when the closest you can get to the theatre's bodily movement is reading the stage directions, you're just reminded of what has to be missing from a play—the text—and what little is there of the text (and of other texts! i don't think i'd ever heard of that rilke poem about eurydice before—it was v cool) makes you want the rest. because the play has only six tales from the metamorphoses, which is skimpy and sad but obviously necessary for a play, and i still haven't really thought enough about why zimmerman chose the stories she chose (my main impulse is to say she mostly chose the well-known ones, therefore the accessible ones, for obvious reasons), but i know i really don't like the (secondary?) framing device of midas. it simplifies and strips a story about an foolish man who for the most part stays foolish and makes it more reminiscent of the sweet adaptations i read as a child—and the characterization of bacchus in the midas story is also off, too sympathetic, not godly enough, not like ovid's gods or the gods of classical literature in general. basically the worst parts of the play are when zimmerman makes the characters easier to like, easier to pretend to understand, in a way that they never are in classical literature. there's not enough ~bite~ i suppose you could say, but there sure is a lot of beauty. ovid was beautiful and ovid was also cruel (and also The Original Fuckboy, which is to say, again, terrible and cruel) and the metamorphoses, i decided to proclaim earlier today, is the poem that best served his cruelty. anyway i'd love to see this in performance. my friend (who lent me the play of course) said zimmerman is known more as a director than a playwright, and it shows—nor do i think she's trying to hide it.