The last time Duchess Paule Turner and his theatrical movement ensemble, Court, gave it up for gods and monsters, they were rolling through a ritualistic, soul-cleansing romp, In the Mud. For Court’s debut, Turner became Miles Davis in his furious-fusion prime, conducting his dance chorus through rough, sexy serpentine fires, burning blasts, licentious leaps and wounded diva wails that sounded like Maria Callas had stepped on to the stage.

"In the Mud defined [our] mission," says Turner from the Edinburgh Fringe Festival where he, Court and producer Melanie Stewart are presenting their "hot" take on Euripides' Medea: Love is the Devil. "[A mission to] create theatrical worlds in which ideas, interest and talent -- salvation, really -- fuse to provide a communal exploration of identity, spirituality, sexuality and cultures."

As a black, gay performing artist who insists on contradiction, the kitchen-sink approach to art suits Turner best.

"I am never black enough nor gay enough nor dance enough," says the Southern-embellishing Richmond, Va., native whose non-organized religious roots reach deep into every step he takes. "I never play diva. I just reach for the divine. With Court and its form of Œmutt theater' I get salvation. I can have religion, fall in love, even kill. It's theater by any means necessary."

Murder. Gods. Love turned spiteful. That'd be Medea, who helped her husband, Jason, steal the Golden Fleece, only to have him leave her when the deed was done. In revenge, Medea killed their children. Based on MacArthur Fellow Eleanor Wilner's translation of the 2,500-year-old myth, Turner's version makes Medea's world of defiant victims his own by raging on the injured pride of the brilliant outsider in a smug culture that assumes its superiority, the oppressive limitation of gender roles and the pain of rejected passion.

"It's about obsessive desire for revenge at any cost, a subject that has its own current and terrible timeliness," says Wilner, one of the few female scholars who've tackled Euripides' epic work.

Done up in heavy metal sounds, ferocious femininity and equally brassy costumes (when they're on), and eating alive every square millimeter of stage space, Turner's take on Medea is hard core. "Heavy metal, gospel and punk are the only musical expressions that I feel hold the rage Medea needs to exorcise the demon eating her heart," says Turner.

"I came to Medea with a central theme: If she was a man she would be a hero. Instead she is a bitch, monster, barbarian. I want to explore the desperation that would make her attack what she loves most ... her children."

Turner sees his Medea as a woman with her back against the wall who decides to take all matters concerning her children into her own hands. "I believe that Euripides is a woman," says Turner. "It is a great work about the strength of the assumed weaker sex, and, do I dare say, race. I have been criticized for pulling the race card."

Some of the most wondrous parts of Turner's work, his courting of non-linearity and the holy moments of Cage-like silence and stillness, have also been criticized. "Some say Love is the Devil is not a movement investigation. Fuck 'em," Turner says. "I choreograph the entire space and atmosphere. I aim to come at an audience fiercely from all angles and orifices." Turner's Medea is about everyday conflict, set in a magical but still realistic context. The show focuses on struggles that are timeless: love, loss and the horrors of which humanity is capable.

"Look, love sucks us all in even when we've been burned by its nasty, tasty tongue," Turner muses about Medea's need to avenge and defend her honor in the face of that fire. "I am all over that -- work bitch! She swears off honey-soaked words and lying, sweet kisses -- AMEN! -- then proceeds to fuck everybody's shit up. Love her."

Medea: Love is the Devil, Paule Turner and Court, Thu., Sept. 5-Fri., Sept. 6, 8 p.m.; Sat., Sept. 7, 2 p.m. and 8 p.m.; Sun., Sept. 8, 3 p.m., $15, The Arts Bank, Broad and South sts.

FringePicks

Cowboy Mouth, Burning Bright Productions, Fri., Aug. 30-Sat., Aug. 31, Wed., Sept. 4-Sat., Sept. 7, Wed., Sept. 11-Sat., Sept. 14, 8 p.m., $15, The K Club, 756 S. Second St. Early Sam Shepard, back in his bad old Patti Smith days, who wrote this when “the rock ’n’ roll Jesus with a cowboy mouth” blew us all away with his funny, fierce, testosterone highs. Burning Bright Productions will show us if this vintage rant holds up after all these years.

GOT (Guaranteed Overnight Theater), Sat., Sept. 7, 10 p.m., $10, Brick Playhouse, 623 South St. Teams of artists get 24 hours to create new short plays. You get to come in at the end and watch the (presumably exhausted) actors perform the plays. Can a show written and rehearsed in 24 hours be any good? See for yourself.

Jails, Hospitals and Hip-Hop, Danny Hoch, Fri., Aug. 30-Sat., Aug. 31, 8 p.m., $15, TLA, 334 South St. If you haven’t seen Danny Hoch, don’t miss him this time. Well, even if you have seen him.… A prize-winning, audience-astonishing solo actor, Hoch writes his own many characters and then brings them to vivid life in different voices, different accents, different worlds. He did the same show in the ’99 Fringe when he wasn’t quite so famous.

Potable Joyce: A Watered Down Version of Ulysses, Sebastienne Mundheim, Sat., Sept. 7-Sun., Sept. 8, 11 a.m., 12:30 p.m. and 2 p.m., $5, Fleisher Art Memorial, 709-721 Catherine St. A little ways off South Street, Mundheim teams with Thaddeus Phillips and the high-flying Janette Hough for a 40-minute romp through Ulysses (both the Joyce and Homer versions) and through Joyce’s life. Can’t wait to see the promised “pub inside a cigar box.”

FoodPicks

Jamaican Jerk Hut, 1436 South St., 215-545-8644

Healthy portions of seasoned chicken with a heaping helping of rice 'n' beans 'n' fried plantains. Great appetizers and a comfy outdoor patio.

Copabanana, 344 South St., 215-923-6180

For a good margarita and a burger, try to squeeze into the ever-packed Copa (good veggie stuff, too).

El Rey Sol, 619 South St., 215-629-3786

ONeals, 611 S. Third St., 215-574-9495

Not only can you get a pre- or post-Fringe meal here, you can see a Fringe show right in the bar (The Writer's Mind).

Tamarind, 117 South St., 215-925-2764

South Street Souvlaki, 509 South St., 215-925-3026

Latest Dish, 613 S. Fourth St., 215-629-0565

Interesting selection of salads, sandwiches and entrees. Often crowded, so go early.