“It’s what’s forgotten as well as what’s remembered that makes the story,” says Jeffery Kissoon’s grizzled Odysseus in Timberlake Wertenbaker’s new version of the Greek epic. Homer’s Odyssey leaves plenty out – holes aching to be filled with the untold stories of those who only have supporting roles in the original.
We all know about the war hero’s wily deeds: the cunning plan with the wooden horse, his prowess in battle, the catastrophes and adventures that delay his homecoming. But what of those left behind? What of Penelope (Ginny Holder), a single parent, raising her son, Telemachus (Theo Solomon), all alone? Or the boy who has never known his hero father?
This reworking, aimed at young audiences, concentrates on Telemachus, who is eager to prove he can be a man and dreams of being a war hero like his father. His only male role models are his mother’s suitors (Ben Adams and Guy Rhys), who have turned his home into a bleak, male-fantasy playground. Aggressive hip-hop blares out, pricey electronic toys are trashed, beer is constantly demanded, along with meat to throw on the barbecue. In the salutary final moments of cartoonish violence, the barbecue proves fatal for some.
Fortunately, Telemachus has his invisible friend, the sensible goddess Athena (Charlotte De Bruyne), who stops him moping and gets him looking for his dad. But a hero can return with a whiff of stale sweat and post-traumatic stress disorder rather than gleaming medals.
Purni Morell’s production more than matches Wertenbaker’s restrained poetry and has a timeless quality. But it’s emotionally distant and Wertenbaker’s script is sometimes hard to untangle. The focus skitters from the slipperiness of storytelling to the brutality of war, the rootlessness of sons with absentee fathers, or our propensity to fall for illusions. Maybe Helen of Troy didn’t even exist, but was the ancient Greek equivalent of a weapon of mass destruction. These are all fruitful avenues of inquiry but are never quite stitched together in a satisfying pattern.
• At the Unicorn theatre, London, until 10 April. Box office: o20-7645 0560.
