Phèdre

Phèdre (Helen Mirren) has fallen for her step-son, Dominic Cooper's proud Hippolytus. Mirren (who enters covered by a purple veil, the same that shrouds her body in the final scene) is no stranger to playing queens, though it's hard to imagine our own Elizabeth consumed by a vengeful fury. And unfortunately, that's true of Mirren too. When she pitifully clings to the rigid Hippolytus and brushes her lips against his sword, she is unforgettable. Equally remarkable is the change of pitch when she discovers that Hippolytus is not indifferent to all her sex. But Mirren needs to dig deeper to discover a reservoir of anger that fills the stage and feeds her desire for revenge. Stanley Townsend's Irish Theseus soon convinces as a grizzled hero, and John Shrapnel's Théramène rivetingly describes every gory detail of Hippolytus's death. By the end there are two corpses on stage. But in Hytner's production we understand how it has happened without feeling it in the depths of our souls.