REVIEW: RSC's Troy Story blends the epic and the intimate in captivating style

Peter Ormerod reviews Troy Story, presented online by the RSC
Anne Odeke, Andrew French and Alice Blundell in The Rage of AchillesAnne Odeke, Andrew French and Alice Blundell in The Rage of Achilles
Anne Odeke, Andrew French and Alice Blundell in The Rage of Achilles

It sounds crass to suggest that this year of great heartbreak and loss could turn out to be in any way good for the arts. The past ten months have laid waste to so many lives, livelihoods and dreams; it is doubtful that anyone will look back on 2020 with fondness. And yet the extraordinary nature of these times is leading to works of extraordinary creativity, with artists doing things that are genuinely new.

There is a production of A Christmas Carol which dissolves the boundary between cinema and theatre. There is also an exquisite horror film called Host, which is set in a Zoom call. These things would not have been made in any other year. And nor would Troy Story, in which the RSC has essentially invented a genre. That it exists at all is a miracle; that it is good is a mere bonus.

By far the worst thing about Troy Story is its name, which conjures entirely misleading notions that this may be some child-friendly affair featuring action figures and the like. What we have instead is a brutally uncompromising telling of Greek myth, which offers nothing by way of context, background or explanation. Its brow is so high, one fears it may be suffering from vertigo. If you fancy an antidote to dumbed-down entertainment, here it is.

Troy Story was streamed live from the Royal Shakespeare Theatre on Saturday and can now be watched online. It was initially presented in five parts, of between 30 and 50 minutes, spread throughout the day. It was thus a collective experience experienced individually. It had no set or costumes, with the performers reading their words from books; so even though it was taking place in a theatre, it was often barely recognisable as theatre. But it was not television or film or literature either; and there was staging of a sort, and music, and the occasional directorial flourish, and the performers were definitely performing. Dramatic readings in themselves are nothing new, of course, but dramatic readings with no physical audience present, on this scale, with this ambition, presented in this manner? Too much art is called 'groundbreaking,' but this felt like it actually was.

Each part had a principal cast of five, arranged for the most part like a five on a die, each standing behind a lectern. Behind them were musicians Dunha Botic and Nick Lee, whose striking Eastern Mediterranean sounds lent the production much of its atmosphere. Proceedings began with The Rage of Achilles, the titular hero portrayed with great heft and gravitas by Andrew French. Even for those whose knowledge of the story is sketchy at best - and I'd include myself in their number - it made for a compelling opening, with the verse flowing mellifluously even as it told of appalling deeds.

There followed The Death of Hector, whose fight with Achilles was evoked powerfully, Colm Gormley playing the victim with a stout dignity. Perhaps the most emotionally resonant moment of the day was the depiction of Andromache's grief, the epic sweep of the story made intimate by Alice Blundell's humane portrayal.

The Wooden Horse related what may be the best-known of the stories told. The intervening centuries may have given it a vaguely comical air, but the full horror was evident here in a tale of shock and gore. Following his winning turn in the RSC's imperious Imperium three years ago, it was good to see Joseph Kloska on the Stratford stage again, this time as Aeneas; an engaging presence, he recovered well after appearing to lose his place, the episode a helpful reminder of the tension of live theatre.

By now, there was a sense of a production unfurling itself, the actors becoming more actorly, gesticulating and addressing each other directly. The dramatic highlight of the day came in Cyclops and Sirens, an adventure full of danger, fear and temptation. Dyfrig Morris was in grand bellowing form as the one-eyed monster, but the show was stolen by Bea Webster and William Grint in what was by some way the most imaginative part of the day. They disrupted the hitherto static nature of the performance, joining the rest of the cast part-way through to play the Sirens, communicating through sign and mime in a captivating and explosive manner, transforming the work into a spellbinding piece of physical theatre.

It was then a tad disappointing to find the last part, The Hero Returns, retreating to a rather more staid style. The sense of momentum dissipated rather; and while the grand story ended in tender fashion, it would have been good for the audience to have been rewarded with a more theatrically satisfying conclusion.

Nevertheless, Gregory Doran, the RSC's artistic director and the director of Troy Story, should be proud of his and team's achievement here, reaching back thousands of years to a cornerstone of the Western literary tradition to fashion something that could have been made only in 2020. On this evidence, the great company can face 2021 with some hope.

* Troy Story is part of the RSC's Tales for Winter season. Visit https://www.rsc.org.uk/ for details.

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