Medea, a talented Cape Town drag queen, is having a bad hair day; she’s just lost her man to a babe with money, and the new babe’s daddy stops by her pad, demanding that she leave Vegas within 24 hours or he’ll wipe her out. This new, over-the-top adaptation of Medea, originally penned in 431 BC and updated to the present by Marianne McDonald, is now being showcased at Sledgehammer Theatre (St. Cecilia’s Playhouse). It is a wild romp with platform heels, blonde wigs, and mini-skirts worn by both Medea (George Alphonso Walker) and her nanny, Nuria (Warren G. Nolan Jr.). But the parade of drag outfits simply mirrors the outlandish plot in which our protagonist commits infanticide to avenge the evil deeds of James Elliot, her former lover, who has married the casino boss’s daughter. After Michael Creon, the most powerful casino boss (Ruff Yeager) in town demands that Medea leave Vegas and her successful cabaret show currently playing at the Parthenon Casino, the audience becomes a witness to her plan to kill James’ new wife, father-in-law and the two children of James’ deceased former wife. It matters little that Medea has raised James’ children as a surrogate mother; what is important now is her honor and nothing, not even the innocent eyes of children, can get in her bloody way. Stylistically, Medea is a grab bag of theatricality. The main playing field includes a revolving bed and Medea’s huge, wooden voodoo closet. This ground-level area leads to an inclined platform on a second level where Medea’s two alter egos (the Medea Divas) sound out her thoughts and feelings. The pace is almost non-stop. For the most part, the cast enters and exits through a black mesh curtain up and down steep stairs that bridge the bi-level areas. Caution: Don’t try this at home, especially with the height of the platform shoes used in this show! The raging of the Medea Divas is interrupted by visits from Nick (Chris Hatcher), the stage manager/messenger, Medea’s former lover from Capetown, Jameson (Greg Tankersley), Creon and James. With the exception of James, these characters are introduced more for sounding out Medea’s feelings than expanding the main plot. Nuria underscores the plot by singing out the actions — past, present and future. This is the only part of the evening (90 minutes/no intermission) that drags a bit, no pun intended. The notes are hit and miss and much too laborious. The blue-filtered lighting is intoxicating but be prepared for the acidic language of the script. It’s not for prudes.

Medea plays at St. Cecilia’s Playhouse in alternating repertory with Phaedra in Delirium through Oct. 12. For more information, call (619) 544-1484.