Olivier, National Theatre, London SE1
As Ralph Fiennes's Oedpius tries to calm the fearful people of Thebes, you could be forgiven for mistaking him for a more modern, though equally emotionally remote leader attempting to rescue his people in a crisis.
But comparisons with Gordon Brown have to stop there. Despite Jonathan Kent's production being mainly populated by men in suits who look like government ministers, when it comes to Greek tragedy you can go only go so far with modern relevance. What drives Sophocles's play, here translated by Frank McGuinness, is an ancient question - are we ruled by ourselves or by God?
"Apollo dances to see me suffer," cries Fiennes's Oedipus, his gouged eyes a self-inflicted punishment for his unintended crime of killing his father and marrying his mother. For most of its tense uninterrupted 100 minutes, Kent's production moves inexorably and elegantly towards this unbearable moment of realisation.