‘The Trojan Women’ Is A Stark And Timely Reimagining Of A Classic

A haunting and thought-provoking adaptation, The Trojan Women blends ancient tragedy with striking modern parallels, creating an experience that feels both distant and uncomfortably immediate.

When my son was in elementary school, his class studied Greek Mythology for several years. It became a topic of conversation in our house at the time, and, with vehicles like Hadestown and the upcoming film The Odyssey now, we’ve been discussing various Greek Gods all over again. Their stories are fascinating and dark, many of which are not particularly for children. But there is a whole mythological world to be explored, and it’s relevant to the world we live in right now.

The Trojan Women takes place at the end of the Trojan War, after the Greeks have claimed victory and the Trojan men have been massacred. In a facility that houses some remaining Trojan women, Hecuba, the Queen of Troy, and the recent widow of King Priam, is thrown into a room with a nameless pregnant woman who is handcuffed to a hospital bed. Talthybius, a guard, removes any items that could be dangerous and delivers them medicine, food, and water. While the pregnant woman hopes that her daughter will survive after delivery, Hecuba rails against the fate of her children and her country. During this time, they are visited in turn by Cassandra, Hecuba’s daughter, Andromache, the widow of Hecuba’s son Hector, Helen of Troy, who inspired the war, and Menelaus, King of Sparta.

Originally written by Euripides in 415 BCE and adapted by Caroline Bird in 2012, The Trojan Women is shockingly pertinent to our current events. In darkness, and with a gorgeous projection on the wall in front of the audience, the show begins with Olympus News and images of the horrors spanning the last 100 years. While Poseidon and Athena describe the fall of Troy, footage from 2025 Minneapolis, the Saigon Execution, and the Middle East, among other nightmare moments, sets the stage. The world is on fire – in history and right now. This has a visceral impact that stays with you throughout the show.

The dichotomy between the two women in the room is incredibly interesting. Hecuba, a queen with 19 children, who wears bedsheets and blankets like robes over her hospital gown, sees a woman as someone not only subservient to her husband but also part of his power. Her job is to be everything he needs so that he can be everything he wants to be – so much so that she favors her sons over her daughters.

The pregnant woman, who was among the laypeople, thinks that Hecuba is ridiculous in her views and sees herself as someone who loved her husband, but owns her own being and body. She is a device for no one but the child she is waiting to deliver.

Set in one room for the duration of the show, the floors and walls are the pale blue of a hospital room. There is a water station next to the locked door, and board games on the shelf are mocking the women. Much of the action takes place across the full room, but the lighting creates more intimate moments as well. You are also treated to Public Enemy before the show, and Madonna with another relevant character introduction.

Ashway Lawver and Morgan Lavenstein are magnetic as Hecuba and the pregnant woman, respectively, but the entire ensemble has stand-out moments. Notably, Jazmine Mazique’s Andromache, a woman who has lost her husband and just given birth to her child, left a heartbroken pit in my stomach.

The inaugural production from the new Eos Theatre Company, The Trojan Women is impactful and deeply resonant. And although the show begins to feel a little long towards the end, its message remains powerful enough to stay with you well beyond the final moment.

The Trojan Women runs for approximately 100 minutes with no intermission. This show is recommended for ages 15+.

Eos Theatre Company: The Trojan Women Chicago Review – The Trojan Women is playing at Bramble Arts Loft through 4/18/26. Tickets can be purchased on the Eos Theatre Company website. Bramble Arts Loft is located at 5545 N Clark St. in Chicago.