Euripides' Trojan Women

There is a NYT review of what looks like it is a fantastic performance. In the powerfully-titled After the War, Before the Slavery, Steeping in Civilization’s Tatters, the reviewer writes,

Some plays, however grand, do feel remote, but The Trojan Women is not one of them. Euripides' women were survivors of a wrecked civilization, prisoners of war about to be carried into slavery. In the Classical Theater of Harlem's dynamic and harrowing production, the survivors are behind the barbed wire fence of a refugee camp. Some sit and stare, some pace, some moan and chatter to themselves. Their gowns, once fine, are tattered. As searchlights scan the rubble, we hear gunshots, sirens, bird cries and splashing water.

A skinny, wild-haired girl in rags clings to the fence, holding a doll. She is 10 years old. "I used to love this place / I would have liked to grow up here," she says, staring out at us bitterly.

But we are a defeated people now
And this is the first day of our slavery
So that's the life I get now.

Everyone tells the girl, Asyntanax, that the war was Helen's fault. She is too young to remember:

Actually I was just born on the day this started
Actually I got old too soon.

The review makes me want to see theatre. It takes much to make me want that.