At its most basic, this eight episode Netflix series sets out to explain why and how people stopped believing in the power of the gods of ancient Greek mythology.
That’s the premise, but how it’s delivered is anything but ancient.
This is bonkers, out-there TV, re-interpreting and re-visualising myths and legends that, for a while, wrote the rules for how humans behave, at least in the birthplace of democracy.
This is definitely not the Olympus of togas, laurel leaves, and pompous pontifications – oh, no.
This is a world that looks and feels something like a cross between Miami Vice and the Los Angeles of Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet. Fast cars, designer clothes, gold watches, cocktails, and cigarettes abound. And swearing to put Tony Montana to shame, or at least make him comfortable.
The story line focuses on a re-imagining of the myth in which Orpheus follows his deceased lover Eurydice, determined to bring her back from the Underworld and return her to the land of the living.
This sets off a series of events that involve most of your favourite Greek gods and supporting characters, from the Fates to the Furies, as well as humans including Persephone, Minos, Ariadne, Theseus, and more.
There are minor characters transformed into leading players, like Caeneus, and some liberties were taken, such as transforming the single Dea Tacita from Roman mythlogy into a protective band of Hera’s handmaidens.
However, when you consider the much grander liberties taken, such as turning the Fates into a trio that hangs out at a dive bar holding contests to see who might have a crack at entering the Underworld alive (including Suzy – nee Eddie – Izzard), or the Furies into another trio of female bikies, these are pretty minor twists.
Other scenarios are very literal renderings of the ancient myths, such as Promethues being chained to a rock while an eagle very viscerally pecks out his liver on a daily basis.
To say this is a creative approach to Greek myth telling might qualify as the understatement of the year.
And then there’s the cast. Not to mention the soundtrack.
From the moment Jeff Goldlbum as Zeus, in a white and gold bejewelled tracksuit and perfect silver quiff, swaggers Travolta-like through a Versailles palace to the tune of Dire Straits’ Money for Nothing, you know a lot of thought has gone into both.
Some of the cast are very well known: Goldblum, Janet McTeer (Hera), Stephen Dillane (Prometheus), Cliff Curtis (Poseidon), David Thewlis (Hades), Billie Piper (Cassandra) – others are completely new to me. All are top notch, deeply embedded in delivering an outrageous script.
The same is true of the music: some of it known to me, some of it not – all of it eclectic and perfectly chosen. I can recall George Jones, Paul Simon, Jackie Wilson, ABBA, Edwyn Collins, The Carter Family, David Bowie, Judy Garland, Rupert Holmes, and Siouxsie and the Banshees. There was a lot more I can’t remember and/or I couldn’t place.
This is fearless TV making, black comedy at its finest, but – appropriately for a setting that gave birth to both comedy and tragedy – it’s also very thought-provoking, penetrative, and challenging. It invites you to consider the human condition in the context of gods trying to hold on to their power over mere mortals.
It also goes a long way to undercutting the inherent patriarchal bias of ancient mythology. It’s mostly the women who drive the action, make the decisions, and evolve their understanding of the world.
It doesn’t surprise me that this was created by Charlie Covell, whose The End of the F***ing World was equally bonkers, scathing, incisive, funny, and deeply moving.
And it’s Netflix-perfect: TV made for a generation that binges and uses a remote control like a personal choice device. It actually rewards pausing, rewinding and checking again that poster on the wall.
Stunning television – I can’t recommend it highly enough.