STILL PLAYING 2,500 YEARS LATER

Postmodern stagings of ancient Greek plays have their work cut out for them. Consider the "Agamemnon" presented by New York's Aquila Theatre Company, starring Olympia Dukakis. It opens tonight. In trenchcoats and snap-brim fedoras, the chorus of Argos elders looks like it stepped out of a Raymond Chandler novel. Seven variations on Philip Marlow mill about at the entrance to the House of Atreus and bring us up to speed:

It has been ten years since
the great prosecutor of Priam,
Menelaus, and King Agamemnon,
the sons of Atreus,
twinned in throne and scepter
and yoked together by Zeus-given power,
launched from this land
a thousand Argive ships,
a force to vindicate our honor.

Agamemnon returns victorious from the Trojan war, having avenged the kidnapping of Helen, the wife of his brother Menelaus. Apparently, the beautiful face that launched a thousand ships also launched a thousand U.S. Army surplus jeeps. When Agamemnon enters stage left in his "war chariot," there's this to be said for it: At least it's not a Humvee.

Dukakis brings nobility and restraint to Queen Clytemnestra, though not much emotional range, which minimizes our pity for her anguish over the death of daughter Iphigenia (reluctantly sacrificed to the gods by Agamemnon to save the Argive fleet from some really nasty weather). "For all he cared he might as well have been killing an animal," Clytemnestra says, after stabbing her husband to death in retribution. Her powerful lines to justify the regicide drip with years of pent-up bitterness and anger. I would have appreciated less Olympian restraint.

Louis Zorich (Dukakis' real-life husband) is a well-spoken Agamemnon, though not as virile as he perhaps ought to be. Marco Barricelli has more than enough virility for both of them as Aegisthus, Clytemnestra's conspirator and lover. As Cassandra, the portentous war prize brought back from Troy, Miriam Laube is persuasive and fiery.

I also liked Aquila artistic director Peter W. Meineck's translation for its straightforward colloquial language, his and Robert Richmond's direction for its lack of fussiness, and -- postmodern shortcomings notwithstanding -- the production's overall aura of primitive grandeur. Were Aeschylus alive today, he might appreciate that his 2,500-year-old tragedy is still running.

"Agamemnon" is at the John Jay Theatre, 899 Tenth Avenue, across from Lincoln Center, through Feb. 22. Tickets may be purchased at Telecharge.com or by phone (212) 239-6200. Subscriptions for Aquila's 2004 season (three plays for $90, including "Othello" and "The Man Who Would Be King") are available by phone at (212) 998-8017 or online here.