
By the end of the show, she also has to become a narrator to spell out Bowkett’s message about how we should lead our lives in the face of death. This means that Purdue, a strong performer with a good voice, has at one moment to play Merope as a sultry sex-goddess, schmoozing the audience, then an articulate feminist, and then (cue sad song) somehow accessing profound depths of sadness. Sisyphus doesn’t so much as offer a story arc more, lots of doll-sized story arcs, each working in a brassy musical number alongside something more plaintive. The plot, however, becomes increasingly hazy in the process. They certainly give it their all, belting out some thirty musical numbers around which the show is constructed.

Red lights flash when Jove is angry.īryony Purdue, Emily Rushton and Ciara Whiting play all the parts. Other less sophisticated props include a tea towel featuring ruins, a small dustbin, and a round table about which the cast must continuously caper – evidence of directorial vision is slight. This doesn’t really come across in the show, not least because a set of Barbie dolls is used to introduce us to the large cast of gods and men.

Sisyphus, accorded to Homer, is noted for his craftiness and treachery.

The original myth about the mortal who marries the goddess Merope is far more complex. Writer Ian Bowkett’s new work, Sisyphus: A Rock ‘n’ Roll Musical attempts, with a cast of three actors, a very small stage and an overpowering sound system, to give us the prequel to the only bit of about Sisyphus most of us know – that he’s condemned to push a rock up a hill for eternity.
