In the original Greek myth the ship Argo was crewed by 50 oarsmen, all of whom were heroes in their own right, including Jason, Herakles, the twins Castor and Pollux (as in Gemini, the constellation/Zodiac sign) and the fathers of Achilles and Odysseus, among others. They encountered a multitude of friends and foes, monsters, gods, demigods and other temptations along the way. Today we’d use the expression ‘star-studded cast’ to describe this crew of superhuman sailors.

This theatrical version of Jason and the Argonauts had a cast of two. Not that you’d notice. It was, in every sense, a tour de force.

Which was surprising because when it comes to accessibility, this particular myth is not easy. There’s that huge character list full of complicated back stories and tongue–twisting ancient Greek names; an abundance of weird accidents and adventures; and lots of unexpected stops along the way and encounters with strange people and creatures. It is, after all, a road trip in a boat. Thelma and Louise on the sea.

Despite this exhausting catalogue, the first five minutes were spent establishing the relationship between the bickering brothers Josh and Andy, our storytellers. This friendly informal introduction helped give young audiences a handle into the complex, old–fashioned tale. References to Star Wars and Spiderman (and later on, to Titanic) also helped contextualise that Jason and the Argonauts were the superheroes and film stars of their day. It was a clever way to indicate to the audience that these old stories have a relevance to them in modern life.

The style was at once very modern and very old. Like the singer–poets of Homer’s time or the empty stage of Shakespeare, it was basic bare bones stuff. Extremely physical theatre with the focus firmly on the two performers. The sheer number of characters each actor played was extraordinary, yet each remained unique and clearly identifiable. Not only that, they imbued their few props and set with life as well.

Characters were sometimes deftly transferred from one actor to a toy solider, for example, then onto the second actor as smoothly as a wave rolls across the ocean. It was breathtakingly audacious as well as simplicity personified…when done well. Which it was.

Their energy, enthusiasm and vitality blustered over the audience like a whirlwind of fresh air. We were caught up with them and would happily go wherever this rollicking adventure blew. Where didn’t matter much, neither in a way, did what happened. We were just along for the ride, kind of like being on a rollercoaster. The acting was playful yet accomplished, professional yet still felt as if this was the first time they’d ever performed it. Andy was the comic relief the kids really clicked with but both actors were strong, polished and brilliant.

All this, and in Scottish accents!

The only set was a large wooden wagon. It was essentially a character in the play as well. It transported the actors and hid a few other minor props including modern action figures and a smaller version of itself. Like a Transformer toy, it morphed into other things. The transformations were clever, imaginative and astonishing, unfolding like a newspaper into a ship, scary sea monster and dragon. Watching it happen was a delight. Hearing the wows of delight from the kids around me was even cooler.

The lighting was simple, a bit of brightly lit space, a few gobos; mostly warm ambers, oranges and reds. The costumes were timelessly rustic in earthy colours. All in all, it was like a good hearty stew on a cold rainy night.

As an audience member I often forgot to breathe! When I did remember, I often couldn’t because I was laughing so hard. It was a lovely hour in the theatre.

Afterwards we spoke to the young boy next to us. I felt sorry for him. He told us it was his first theatre show ever and nothing like he expected. Now he’s going to want every show to be as good. Chances are, they won’t. But they should aspire to be?

Credits