GREEK SISTER Dornheggen tries to beat the oracle.

One of Euripides’ lesser-known tragedies, in a 1937 translation by the poet Hilda Doolittle (commonly known by her initials), Ion tells the story of the titular orphan boy, raised as a servant of Apollo at the Temple at Delphi, wondering who his parents were and how he can find his place in the world. Meanwhile Kreusa, queen of Athens, arrives at the temple with her husband to consult the oracle about their childlessness; we learn that she had a child once, in secret, after being raped by Apollo, and abandoned the little boy after he was born. It’s Greek myth, so we’ll trust you can see where it’s going, though it’s complicated briefly by the oracle’s misdirecting pronouncement that Ion is the son of Kreusa’s husband, Xouthos, leading Kreusa and Ion to make mutual attempts on each other’s lives. But then Athena ex machinas on down to explain everything. As tragedies go, it’s an oddly happy ending: Nobody dies, and everybody goes home satisfied.

Everybody onstage, at least. The resolution may be clean, but that doesn’t mean it’s clear what Shook is going for with it. Nobody loses, and the story is resolved not by human growth or learning but by intervention from the gods—this play doesn’t exactly have strong dramatic stakes. It needs some directorial vision to up the ante, or else it’s just a mythology pageant with H.D.’s poetic language, and the minuscule Side Project space only makes the play feel smaller—not so godlike. Sierminski’s goofy demeanor as Ionhinders even the poetry; there are unexpected laughs in his performance, but we’re not sure that serves the story. Dornheggen’s Kreusa has the gravitas, but once again the scale’s off—she looks to be about a week older than her son.—Kris Vire