"Women of Troy," University Players, Cal State Long Beach, Long Beach, CA

Euripides’ The Women of Troy, directed by Bruce Turk for Cal State Long Beach’s University Players, reminded us that the end of war doesn’t mean the end of hostilities. Not by a long shot.

The story of an aftermath, the beginning of an end, the script described the horrors heaped upon the women who survived the Athenian sack of their kingdom at the end of the decade-long Trojan War.

Hecuba (Leah Harshaw), widow of Trojan King Priam, mother of slain Hector, endured the murder of her grandson Astyanax (thrown off the city’s ramparts to end the royal line), and the enslavement and deportation of Hector’s widow, Andromache (Ivana Karapandzic), and Cassandra (Jill Taylor).

Turk showed the consequences of masculine hubris and swagger through an examination of feminine faces, gestures, and plaintive wails. Even without words this production would have worked well as pantomime.

The meek shall inherit the earth? Forget about it!

The inspired set design – rocks hung from ropes in the rafters; boulders lay strewn across the stage – lent texture and resonance. Not only did it suggest armaments that rained down from the sky, it also implied tombstones and cairns. Symbolically it alluded to the Greeks (“a heart of stone”) and the women of Troy (“between a rock and a hard place”).

Turk made us look below the surface of war. Let’s say, hypothetically, Allied forces return home by July 4. Then think of the miasma with which the women of Baghdad would have to contend. Even if we weren’t there for a hundred years, the repercussions would be felt for centuries.

If anyone needed to be reminded of the frivolity and futility this war – any war - go no further than the magnificent scene in which Helen (Yvonne Senat) charms husband Menelaus (Matthew Jennings) out of her execution. All that carnage because of her? Senat nailed the haughtiness of the face (her beauty was her own Weapon of Mass Destruction) that launched a thousand ships.

It was a dignified production. The pacing was slow and majestic; the grief was measured and profound. At first the acting was low key but emphatic, as if the women were still in shock. Its tone was mute and understated, the better to ratchet up the desperation and despair that was about to gurgle to the surface. The thunk, thunk, thunk was your heart’s attempt to recalibrate itself as the story unfolded.

All the elements conspired to one fine production. The story was well constructed. The women were noble in their pathos. All but one of the Athenian men were supercilious in their arrogance, aggression, and entitlement. The set advanced and enhanced the story. This was one fine ensemble performance.

The emotional vortex of the drama, Harshaw brought passion to her role. Hecuba, after all, just didn’t lose those around her, she lost a kingdom, a culture, a way of life. While Harashaw internalized her grief, Karapandzic brought a physical presence to hers. And Taylor’s mad Cassandra aced the unhinged mayhem of the end of the world as she knew it.

The play, alas to relate, ended April 12. For more information call 985-5526 or visit www.csulb.edu/depts/theatre/.