In Homer’s Odyssey, the hero, Odysseus, takes ten years to reach Ithaca after the Trojan War. In this time he is a keyless wanderer, encountering all manner of temptations and beasts to lure, excite, test and stretch the real journey of inner knowledge that underscores this epic tale.

Cut to 2013; actor Mick Innes uses the solo form as a chance to recount his own keyless odyssey of excess and redemption. In his version, though, there is very little fantasy at work, just selective and colourfully edited versions of a life lived as an actor. It’s simple, moving, and – in the vein of Scottish raconteurs he’s no doubt descended from – lingers on the absurd and familiar in life to make us laugh and cry at the shared humanity between us. Innes’s odyssey has been forty years in the making, and as he approaches 60 with a clear head and a reflective mindset, it’s time to tell the story. 

You can’t help but like Mick. Standing like a weathered conversationalist in front of us, he tells us some excessive stories of wild nights and blurry days spent with famous friends in drug/alcohol-induced escapades in Sydney and beyond. The unfettered, hot, coke-driven summer days of the 1980s in Sydney become palpably alive before us with Innes’ gravelly tone. We are enticed to use our imaginations.

But every high has its low. This Odysseus has his own Penelope, his soul mate, but the tragedy and spiritual dimension to this real-life relationship cuts deep. I really applaud Innes’s courage, his honesty, his warts-and-all approach to this piece as he shares the intimacy of this and other friendships. Just like their first meeting, there is electricity in the air when he talks about Jedda.  Their connection is still palpably alive. 

This biographical form takes immense courage, as Miranda Harcourt, Kate Harcourt and Stuart McKenzie have shown us over the years in their offerings of biographical theatre. There’s no character to hide behind, no costume to distract the eye, just the loosely-clothed self to present the story of a life lived with vigour. Nerves and slight apprehension were there at the start with Innes but the opening night audience lapped it up, giving him permission to enjoy the ride. I hope Innes builds on this confidence.

There’s no bullshit with Innes and the show (directed and sensitively crafted by Roberto Nascimento) reflects this: water, asthma inhaler on the table, a few lights and the stories of Mick Innes. There are no tricks here. This technical dimension may grow further in future seasons – photos/ voices/ images? – to expand the landscape further. On the other hand, what more do you need? I really like this naked, bio-documentary approach.  

Innes is well placed to tell stories. He really has known the highs of TV/acting fortune and lows of sleeping rough on park benches and in graveyards. With a career spanning three decades in film, television and theatre, plus three marriages, two kids, two grandsons, lock ups, drunk tanks and the odd spot of bother, addiction is subtly the actual story here. The pain and joy of existence is a journey masked by substances; the naked yearning of the soul to connect, to matter, to transcend and ultimately, to accept the self and claim joy. In recounting this individual life, he speaks for many.

“When I go you’ll see the fingernail marks on the floor,” he says. And I believe him. This guy has struggled, has earned his facial laugh lines, but essentially loves life. I learn something about values in this show. About friendship, courage, true grit, and fearless living. 

Everybody has a story in them, but Innes really is a survivor whose tale is intriguing, moving, and a gem.  A stellar effort from a born storyteller; a generous offering. I want to know more. Mick’s Epic Odyssey is one to see.

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