[Namsan Stroll] Why Oedipus Again?

Highlighting the Beastliness of Modern Civilization and Its Uncertain Future

"In the End, That Precarious Figure Reflects Ourselves"

In the fall season of 2026, the National Theater Company of Korea is presenting the third play in German playwright Roland Schimmelpfennig’s five-part "Anthropolis" series, titled "Oedipus" (translated by Song Jeon, adapted by Jeong Jin-sae, directed by Kang Yangwon).

The rather unfamiliar word "Anthropolis," which precedes "Oedipus," was coined by Schimmelpfennig himself. A literal translation would be something akin to "city of humans."

In an era when anxieties about a "human-centered" civilization—born from the birth of the modern self, following ages of subjugation to gods and loyalty to monarchs—have become ever more acute, Schimmelpfennig turns his focus to the inherent animalistic instincts that threaten human communities. To explore this, he draws upon one of the most tension-filled episodes in Greek mythology: the story of Oedipus. Thus, he created a five-part series, successively highlighting the Dionysus deity entangled in Oedipus’ lineage, his father Laius, his wife Jocasta, and his daughter Antigone. The premiere was held at Hamburg’s Deutsches Schauspielhaus in 2023, directed by Karin Beier, with three consecutive days of performances that sparked an enormous response.

Since 2025, following performances of the first and second parts of this five-play cycle, the National Theater Company is preparing to stage "Jocasta" and "Antigone" this year, in addition to "Oedipus." Although Schimmelpfennig’s play does not markedly diverge from Sophocles’ original "Oedipus," director Kang Yangwon has adapted the script with the playwright’s consent, infusing it with his own worldview.

Sophocles’ "Oedipus" was praised by Aristotle in his renowned treatise "Poetics" as a masterpiece that achieved the pinnacle of ancient tragedy. The sum total of the play’s structure and elements ultimately provides the audience with "pity" and "fear," leading them to a catharsis that relieves their own repression and anxiety.

On a stage at Myeongdong Arts Theater that is one-ninth the size of the entire venue, Oedipus appears barefoot and bares his wounded "swollen foot"—the original meaning of his name—entering the white cube set with his body bared. He seems far removed from the Aristotelian archetype of the "noble-born who possesses ordinary virtue." Although he is a king by status, his kingdom is a devastated place awaiting its end. Cursed with shackles on his heels from birth, left abandoned, and forever limping on an infected foot, he has already inspired pity from the very start of the play. The only traits that remain true to the original source are his drive and courage—his determination to save his kingdom after solving the riddle of the Sphinx and his pursuit, following the oracle’s command, to track down the murderer of the former king.

Afflicted by disability and ruling as a foreigner, Oedipus finds himself at the very heart of the dreadful curse that he will kill his own father and marry his own mother. Surrounding characters as well as a chorus—represented in the production by various animals and minerals—watch and pity him on his perilous journey. At the height of tragedy, his wife and mother Jocasta runs a comb through his hair, the very comb she has used on herself. The moment when the ever-hunched and limping Oedipus rises to his greatest height is when he lowers Jocasta’s hanged body from the ceiling. After gathering her corpse, he pierces his own eyes with the pin from her collar, consigning himself to eternal darkness.

As the oracle mandates the ousting of the former king’s killer, Oedipus relentlessly exiles himself from the kingdom and begins his wandering. At the climax, the great wall enclosing the stage opens, and he staggers and collapses into a vast open space. What is that place? On a giant billboard towering in the background, a video unfolds, seemingly symbolizing the precarious future confronting humanity. At this moment, the audience will realize that we are not so different from that fraught figure of Oedipus.

Hwawon Lee (President of the Korean Association of Theatre Critics, Director of the Art Without Borders Center)

This content was produced with the assistance of AI translation services.