The raw construction and poetic images of Aeschylus’ drama create a cruel vision of humanity that does not fit the framework set by civilization. What distance separates our experiences from those recorded centuries ago? How would Orestes’ madness end in our time: with salvation or self-destruction? “Jan Klata composes a play out of startling images,” writes Marta Bryś. “Elektra drags her father’s skeleton onto the proscenium, sets it on a cardboard box where she once kept her toys, and builds him an altar, before which she and her brother swear to avenge his death in the name of Justice. Orestes appears in the house of Aegisthus with a Punisher comic book in his hand, holding it like a primer or a school book. As if afraid to part with his idol, who gives punishment to the forces of darkness. Again, Justice. (…) In a characteristically subversive manner, Klata weaves in elements of pop-culture, turning Apollo, for example, into a Robbie Williams show.” Are the soulless gods toying with our lives, muddling our heads? The tragedy of Orestes terrifies us most because each of its characters commits his/her crimes in the name of Justice…

The stage is covered in a thick layer of gray gravel and shrouded in a thick, gray fog. Factory ventilators lie to one side. (…) This vacant and comfortless space is like the world of a nightmare dreamt by Aeschylus’ protagonists. (…) Klata has managed a remarkable feat – he has created capacious and accurate theatre metaphors from seemingly incompatible elements. He would not have managed without a creative team of actors who understand him well. It is through them – and they all perform splendidly – that we encounter people spilling their guts in extreme situations – and we have the impression it is all absolutely true.

Joanna Targoń, Gazeta Wyborcza