The awkward moments at the opening of Vincent Andrew-Scammell’s solo show,
where you’re wondering if he can succeed in winning over the audience, are
mirrored in the content, with his stage persona fumbling rather tragically through a
fraught, nervous introduction. His thespian fortunes are about to change, however,
as he comes into possession of the decanter of Dionysus. He is suddenly seized by
the decanter’s mysterious power, and with a swift costume transition to toga-chic,
becomes possessed by the nine muses of Greek myth — Clio, Calliope and friends
— thus becoming a channel for a succession of ancient Classical figures.

Hermes is an appropriate character for establishing audience engagement, being a
god of communication and witty banter as well as a guide between realms. This
character promptly sweeps away the fourth wall, addressing members of the
audience, improvising on their responses and drawing mythological connections,
managing to find and amplify the ridiculous angle in each exchange. As he
transitions through embodiments of Charon, Aphrodite, the minotaur, Theseus and
figures from the Odyssey and the Iliad, he indeed succeeds in drawing input from a
large number of audience members into his scenarios, fostering a warmly
collaborative narrative approach and a mutual commitment to absolute silliness. Big
physical energy—so much is achieved with side-eye, movement and quirks of the
eyebrow that spoken dialogue often plays the minor role in the to and fro.

The heros, deities and monsters are rendered accessible by means of absurd
mannerisms and characterisations that challenge the traditional or emphasise the
less-than heroic. Charon, the shadowy ferryman, turns out to be a geeky fellow with
an endearing lisp who clumsily and apologetically announces some unfortunate
news, then demands payment, pushing the awkwardly funny into the excruciating.
The minotaur fails entirely at being frightening and ends up confessing his sense of
abandonment in an incongruously Swedish accent. Aphrodite facilitates a romance,
but really, it’s all about her. Odysseus philanders. Achilles shows off. The chaotic,
hilarious chariot dragging scene is the evening’s crowning moment of physical
comedy.

Andrew-Scammell’s talent for audience engagement is the backbone of this show.
While they’re hardly a deep dive into the Classics, his portrayals manage to evoke
the essence of some of these figures and capture the poignant and unexpected in
their stories—the pathos and tragedy behind the minotaur’s monstrosity, the noble
and earnest dedication of the ferryman—and queries the dubious entitlement of such
characters as Odysseus and Theseus to the title of hero. Altogether, it’s a giddy,
high-energy rampage through Greek mythology and fabulous fun.

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