This production has one redeeming feature – it is short. And so I will keep my review short too. The sheer randomness of what is happening on stage is staggering. It feels as if a troupe of A-level drama students could not agree on a practitioner, so each one chose their own favourite and threw the most gimmicky aspect of that practitioner’s work at the stage hoping something would stick.

Why does Brie keep singing ‘no’? What does the black paint signify? Why is there a need for voice distortion? How do the costumes interact with one another? Why are some objects going round the stage in circles? What is the role of the blimp? Why did the stage suddenly become engulfed in smoke? How are we supposed to interpret the shadow play? What is the message behind all of this guff?

If all the weirdness was not enough to exhaust even the most determined spectator, there is the delivery itself. Brie Larson, especially at the outset, fires her lines out so quickly, it is straining to keep up with the content. Marième Diouf eats most of her words and clearly feels elocution is something unbecoming. There is so much shouting, shrieking, screaming and noise generally…compounded with the odd verse adaptation of the play. I do not go to the theatre intending to work so hard at understanding what the actors are saying.

I got the sense that maybe this was meant to be some pro-feminist protest play taking a dig at the patriarchy. Elektra might have been channeling a punk rocker, spitting and stomping, but ultimately, she comes across more like a surly teenage brat, perpetually angry at her mum, than feminist warrior. The bad-ass mum who actually stuck it to the patriarchy by offing the husband who had killed their daughter in cold blood. And it’s hardly a trait of strong females to wait for the brother to do the deed… So maybe not a dig at the patriarchy after all, I don’t know. And not sure I actually care.

I came away thinking that this was a play the director did for himself, not for the naive idiots that paid for the tickets.