Antigone in the Amazon: A Theatrical Awakening to Truth

Milo Rau’s Antigone in the Amazon is a wake-up call, spotlighting the stage as a beacon for truth and theatre as a powerful force of resistance.

Sense of Wander: ★★★★☆

Throughout the performance period, the National Theatre in Taipei transforms into a site of protest, alive with evocative banners that echo the themes explored in Antigone in the Amazon.

TAIPEI, Taiwan — Antigone. MST. Amazon. Before watching Milo Rau’s Antigone in the Amazon, these words may feel distant, even foreign. Yet, at the entrance to the auditorium, audiences are met with red and black banners draped over the balcony railing, boldly inscribed with these very words.

More than mere decorations, these banners embody the play’s themes, prompting us to see their relevance in our own lives. And if you, like me, find yourself unfamiliar with these terms, don’t worry. Their meanings will unfold, one by one, as the story unfolds.

In Antigone in the Amazon, Brazilian musician Pablo Casella guides the audience with gentle melodies throughout the play.

Milo Rau’s Antigone in the Amazon opens with a musician and Polyneices singing a thought-provoking line from Sophocles’ Antigone: “Many things are monstrous, but nothing is more monstrous than man.” This ancient verse sets the stage for what follows — what Rau calls “a modern epic that exposes human greed and arrogance.”

At its core, the play confronts the brutal massacre of 21 landless farmers in the Amazon basin in 1996. At a time when deforestation and land grabs continue to escalate under capitalism, Rau poses a challenging question: “What can we — who live on the other side of the world — do?”

While each of us may wrestle with our own answers, Rau responds by using theatre as an act of resistance. Collaborating with the MST (Movimento dos Sem-Terra or “Landless Workers’ Movement”), a Marxist-inspired social movement in Brazil that seizes unproductive land from oligarchs to build sustainable farms, he brings their struggle to the stage.

Set in the heart of Brazil’s Amazon rainforest, the play weaves together the Greek tragedy Antigone with real-life resistance of Indigenous activists and land defenders. Through an interplay of video footage and live performance, Antigone in the Amazon blurs the line between past and present, fiction and reality, urging us to bear witness to a historical event that continues to unfold today — and to take actions before it’s too late.

Polyneices, portrayed by Frederico Araujo, gazes at the projection screen, where a video footage of the MST activists' protest unfolds.

In Sophocles’ tragedy, king Creon orders that Polyneices — the fallen rebel — be denied burial, his body left to decay as a warning to traitors. But Antigone defies this decree, risking her own life to give her brother the burial rites he deserves. Her rebellion against the head of state leads to a tragic chain of events, exposing the vulnerability of power and the inescapable hand of fate at play.

What sets Antigone in the Amazon apart from the Greek tragedy, however, is its context: the story is reimagined on an occupied piece of land in the Brazilian Amazon, brought to life by indigenous people, activists, and actors.

Brazilian actor Frederico Araujo takes on the role of Polyneices, marked by the red cap he wears — a potent symbol of resistance in Brazil. What’s intriguing, though, is that the Polyneices we see on stage transcends being just a character — he embodies the countless victims of land seizure in Brazil, many of whose names may have been forgotten by most.

On the other hand, the role of Antigone is portrayed by Kay Sara, an Indigenous activist from the Amazonian community of Lauaretê. Her performance brings authenticity to the narrative, acting as a bridge between classical themes and the contemporary fight for survival. In her defiance against oppression, Antigone mirrors those who risk everything to defend their land and their people.

Creon (right), portrayed by Sara De Bosschere, and his son Haemon (left), played by Arne De Tremerie, are the only Belgian actors in the production.

The scene where Polyneices is dragged across the stage by an authority figure is shocking, offering a glimpse into the perilous risks faced by activists in their resistance.

By combining documentary film and live performance, the play invites the audience to reflect on justice, resistance, and the ongoing struggle between state violence and moral duty.

The integration of video footage filmed in Brazil, alongside real historical events, transforms this production into a form of documentary theatre, with its tragic ending — as we already know — being inevitable.

I’m particularly intrigued by the appearance of Ailton Krenak, a Brazilian Indigenous activist and philosopher, who takes on the role of Tiresias. Much like the blind prophet in Antigone, Krenak’s words of wisdom seem to extend beyond the story, prompting us to reflect on the choices we make in life.

In the epilogue, the line “each grain of earth on the body is light” stirs deep emotions within me. It seems to suggest that, while bodies may be buried, the legacy of resistance built by their forebears will remain as a beacon of hope, guiding those who follow toward the future they aspire to.

After Polyneices’ death, his red cap lies discarded on the ground like a silent protest.

I recall the first time I watched political theatre was also here at the National Theatre. The production, Extraordinary Appeal, brought real-life victims of Taiwan’s White Terror Period (1949-1992) before the audience to share their stories and speak the truth of their suffering.

Some have commented that Antigone in the Amazon feels more like long-form journalism than theatre, even likening Rau’s production to a reporter’s investigation rather than a piece of art. But I see it differently.

While Rau does draw on extensive research, weaving historical facts, commentary, and anecdotes much like a reporter, he takes it one step further. He doesn’t just present information; he constructs compelling scenes that unfold before us, using theatre as a space of local resistance. What’s more, he brilliantly integrates Greek classics into his narrative, shedding light on the urgent matters at hand.

After all, theatre is not just a place for us to dream and escape; it’s a space where truths and harsh realities are laid bare, whether we like it or not. As Rau himself puts it: “Global realism, without looking closely in the eyes of the multi-layered crises we are living in, without being aware of the dark sides of humanity and what we call ‘progress’ or ‘civilasation,’ would be pure exotism.”

What Rau presents here is not just a history lesson, nor an investigation into historic event — it’s an ongoing reality. It’s worth noting that, as of 2021, there are an estimated 1.5 million members of the MST throughout Brazil.

As I leave the auditorium, my eyes catch a banner hanging in the hall: “Isso não é o fim,” meaning “This is not the end.” It’s a bold statement, declaring that controversial plays like Antigone in the Amazon are just the beginning — a call to awaken, expand our understanding, and confront the urgent issues at hand.

Milo Rau’s Antigone in the Amazon may well be an answer to the question: “Can art offer solutions where politics fails?”

A banner at the National Theatre reads “Isso não é o fim” (“This is not the end”).

Antigone in the Amazon was performed at the National Theatre in Taipei, Taiwan, from October 18 to 20, 2024.