Every so often a show comes along that changes the face of musical theater. Jorge Rivera-Herrans’ Epic is such a musical. There are so many praises to sing, and even though only Act 1 has been released, it’s abundantly clear that this musical is very special. Act 1 of Epic is absolutely perfect, and Rivera-Herrans has woven together a really compelling re-telling of this myth. There’s just something about these songs that triggers some kind of dopamine receptor or rush that makes them absolutely intoxicating to listen to.
Based on Homer’s Odyssey, the plot of Epic revolves around Odysseus’ (Rivera-Herrans) journey home to Ithaca from the Trojan War and the obstacles that he faces on the way. The musical comprises individually released albums or ‘sagas’; 5 out of 9 have been released. Act 1 details of the events during and immediately after the fall of Troy (The Troy Saga), the crew’s encounter with Polyphemus (The Cyclops Saga), Aelous’ (Kira Beth Stone) bag of winds (The Ocean Saga) and confrontation with Poseidon (Steven Rodriguez), Circe’s (Talya Sindel) island (The Circe Saga) and journey to find the prophet, Tiresias (Mason Olshavsky) in the Underworld (The Underworld Saga). A large part of this musical’s success revolves around Rivera-Herrans’ ability as a storyteller and composer to respect the oral tradition of Greek mythology and to be able to bring out new interpretations of the story and characters , showing these figures and archetypes from a different perspective. For example, Circe’s characterisation is not necessarily a process in rewriting the story, but trying to see behind the archetype of the character to really understand their motivation.
The orchestrations are beautifully complicated and detailed that serve to further the plot and characters, not just one or the other. The music reflects and develops a particular emotional state of a particular moment, or increases the sense of urgency. It marries these building blocks of classical music to more modern attributes, creating this wave of harmonies – and occasionally a literal Greek chorus – and instruments that are all working individually whilst contributing to the whole to capture these individual moments in their entirety. The overlapping harmonies and multitude of moving pieces within Storm lead to this sense of chaos and tension at the heart of it, an overwhelming effect that appears int here moments of heightened confusion and danger. In his use of motifs, ‘movements’ or ‘sagas’ as storytelling markers and giving each saga almost a signature instrument on which to ground the melody, Rivera-Herrans has found a way not only to connect the sagas as an overarching musical, but the individual songs into a saga. For example, The Circe Saga is dominated by (puppeteer) strings, the tempo of which sets the tone for each song; from very rapid and urgent in Puppeteer, a Habanera-esque intro in Done For that precedes the confrontation within the song, which is a very interesting homage to make. The strings’ greater melodic freedom in There Are Other Ways, creates this give and take within the melody that gives the song a rather languid quality. These tenets of classical music as a form of continuity create overarching moments of recall over the rest of the show, and creates these instrumental associations that help us keep track of the large cast of characters. This use of motifs and instruments to represent different characters is incredibly effective from Penelope’s viola that interrupts There Are Other Ways, is such a powerful interruptance and break in the melody, literally changing the song’s direction, to Aeolus’ flute, or Athena’s trill on the piano that indicates her presence. There are many parts of the show that are just intrinsically clever, for example, during Warrior of the Mind when Athena (Teagan Earley) holds the same note on the word ‘mind’, versus Odysseus’ riff when he joins in the chorus the second time around, which Athena then copies on the next line. It’s such a great little moment of characterisation, and says so much in just those few notes about the relationship between the two characters. And in this way, it becomes a representation of their partnership. This riff reappears in My Goodbye on Athena’s second last ‘goodbye’, almost as if she’s throwing it in his face. It’s just so incredibly powerful, like using a phrase from Full Speed Ahead at the beginning of the Circe Saga, and those connections and moments of recall is the driving force that makes this musical so incredibly emotionally powerful and immediate to the point of evoking a response from us. There’s as much character work in the orchestrations as in the actors’ performance – the two parts work in tandem – creating a positively overwhelming auditory experience, basically the hearing equivalent of tasting a multitude of separate flavours that complement and contrast one another to come together as one thing. For lack of visual clues, the orchestrations set the atmosphere of a particular moment, but provide insight into the emotional state of a character who is just present in a moment. In No Longer You, the orchestrations start to spiral during the second chorus after Tiresias’ words poke at Odysseus’ faith in Penelope, where Odysseus is present in the moment but off-screen essentially, so we are able to still track the character arc, even if the character themselves don’t express it.
The way that the libretto is constantly shifting in tone between little humorous asides that create these moments of levity and character all contained in this one moment, general narrative to set the scene and extremely profound lyricism means that the musical is constantly moving forward, constantly developing the plot, themes and characters. And to be able to capture these emotional states and plot moments from a rather intimidating body of work, in just a few words or notes without losing anything is a talent in itself. From word-play like “wiser, why’s you” in My Goodbye, or the compelling storytelling in Warrior of the Mind that not only makes it really catchy and energetic, but almost transcendental as a character song. Just A Man in its entirety is such a pivotal moment which sets up this rhetorical question that becomes part of the overarching narrative of Act 1. This song really humanizes this mythical figure that we’re more familiar with as this cunning, morally gray trickster who was responsible for the Trojan Horse, but this song reframes the character as essentially just a normal guy trying to get home to his wife but has to survive these insurmountable odds and extraordinary situations, and this song, where we see who he is beneath the mantles of general, soldier and king, does make him more likable, in that he becomes someone we’re more inclined to root for. And it sets up this underlying revolutionary social commentary of the immutable and immovable forces(gods) at work against the average person, and the either/or choices that are given. And that’s what makes it such a tragedy. Ruthlessness and The Underworld Saga are really the epitome of these circular lyrical moments that link the songs of Act 1 together; Poseidon throwing Odysseus’ final words to Polymphemus back at him to taunt him, this concept of “ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves” that Odysseus adopts in Monster; the cries of ‘Captain’ coming back to haunt Odysseus in The Underworld, and how the overarching conflict of Act 1 is answered in Monster, a song that also echoes parts of The Horse and The Infant, which draws a connection between the two songs.
Penelope and how she appears throughout Act 1 is a really interesting and somewhat important point of analysis, both in relation both to Epic and The Odyssey. In Homer’s poem she is the archetype of the ideal wife, her whole characterization and purpose revolves around the way she waits for Odysseus to come home for 20 years. Her appearance in Epic in Keep Your Friends Close or through her motif is such a great use of the theatrical technique of memory and illusion, because she hasn’t appeared yet, not really. We haven’t yet met her without the lens of absolute adoration that Odysseus has for her. Those moments where she’s present through her motif are some of the most emotionally wrought, because of how much of a presence she has that is mimicked in the way that her motif disrupts and stands out from a melody. There are many things to be excited about in Act 2, but meeting Penelope in her own words is close to the top.
We meet Odysseus in the middle of action, in this honourable moment of strategy and leading his troops into battle, compared how quickly he is baited into committing a contrastingly dishonourable act through the fault of his own hubris. The first time we are officially introduced to Odysseus is at the end of Survive, almost two sagas from the start. And it’s at this hugely hubristic moment as well, when he tells Polypehmus his real name, when he becomes Odysseus instead of Nobody. And this serves as a kind of roadmap, where there’s this give and take of Odysseus being this silver-tongued, intelligent leader but letting it get the better of him leading him to commit these acts of hubris, and on the flip side of that, Rivera-Herrans humanises him, he lets us see how beaten down and exhausted Odysseus can become, but then still finds the energy to charm his way out of trouble, or at least attempt to, playing to the mantle of the mythological hero and the moments where he is just a man’. Rivera-Herrans embodies Odysseus completely, there’s a physicality to his performance that reaches out and creates an emotional immediacy, a very difficult thing to do without a visual performance. It’s very visceral, he knows how to evoke these moments of extreme pathos that pack an emotional punch that we feel physically, and in his performance and music finds a way to make us take on what Odysseus is feeling at any particular moment. For example, there’s a marked difference between Odysseus’ exuberance at meeting Athena -”goddess and man bestest of friends” – the anger and spite in My Goodbye, the desperation of his “I’m the same” in Keep Your Friends Close when seeing Penelope, and anguish in “I can’t!” in There Are Other Ways. The appearance of Anticlea (Wanda Herrans) in The Underworld and his subsequent, “I took too long” is both beautiful in its gentleness but in an unexpectedly devastating way.
The cast of this musical is truly amazing, every song in these sagas is testament to their talent as singers and voice actors. It’s insane the amount of talent that has been gathered in this one cast. Each performer leaves a completely unique impression that leaves us completely stunned. They have such control over their voices, using subtle shifts in tone or intonation to make up for the lack of visual clues that would normally indicate a characters’ emotional state at any given moment in a staged production.
My Goodbye is a really great example of this, where the bridge really builds up the intensity of the confrontation between Odysseus and Athena, and in the piano chords as it ends, in that silence we can almost hear this kind of great weight of sadness that washes over the moment, and when Earley once more begins singing we can hear the subtle transition over which this heartbreak and vulnerability hardens back into anger and disappointment. There’s such a contrast between these two songs Warrior of the Mind, where Earley takes on a more amused and not necessarily happy but proud and playful tone, whilst My Goodbye is powered by barely concealed anger. Even her command ‘don’t!’ in Survive, possesses an edge of concern. She provides so much insight into this proud and powerful godly figure. Through her performance and sheer power of her voice, Earley shows us the cracks in the foundation.
From the imposing figure that is painted in Puppeteer and Wouldn’t You Like, to the reality in There Are Other Ways, Sindel’s portrayal highlights the parallels between Circe and Odysseus, how Circe becomes his foil in that her motivations play into an ‘ends justify the means’ kind of moral subjectivity. Sindel has a remarkable voice and she switches easily between more classical and modern vocal techniques – luxuriating in some notes whilst clipping others – giving her an insane amount of control over the emotional nuances and tone of the music. She gives equal weight to the duality of the character – the imposing and powerful witch and the moments that are more gentle or teasing in nature, and plays around with it in a way that makes Circe really come to life. It may just be the connotations of an RP English accent, but it really suits Circe and it gives Sindel’s performance an air of otherworldliness, sophistication and power; there’s a certain authority that is felt whenever she speaks, truly remarkable the effect an actor’s choice can create. There are few times when you come across a role that is perfectly cast, and Sindel’s casting is one such example.
Polites (Steven Dookie) haunts the narrative and Dookie’s performance of Open Arms is an impactful and hopeful moment, that its implications don’t register until it causes a kind of emotional jump-scare in The Underworld. It’s literally a light in a very heavy and complex musical. The impression that he leaves is one of the more heartbreaking moments in this show. The portrayal of each chaotic neutral trickster complements and parallels the other. Stone is more Seelie sprite to Troy Doherty’s spirit of chaos that is Hermes, a character that would definitely do something – like giving Odysseus moly – for their own amusement, and would just as soon harm than help. Each of them conveys this, not necessarily malice but gently threatening power in a bitten back smile to hide their teeth, and through their portrayal we can feel them playing some sort of 4 dimensional chess with Odysseus. Rodriguez’s portrayal of Poseidon is important, in that his performance feels violently authoritative. Ruthlessness is a villain song, and Rodriguez leans into the weight and importance of the moment. His voice has a roaring/ gravely quality that reflects this characteristic from Greek mythology where the ocean was said to mirror Poseidon’s emotions. Armando Julian as Eurolychus appears as the little voice in the back of Odysseus’ head providing rational advice, the epitome of which is Luck Runs Out, a kind of logic that stands out against the mythical backdrop, almost acting in opposition to the genre. The role is quite expositional, and it will be interesting to see how Julian develops the character further through the changing nature of the relationship between him and Odysseus. Olshavsky possesses this really bright tenor that soars above the orchestrations with a kind of fluidity in its steadiness. He captures an emotionless distance that Tiresias – as a figure who can see the future but no power to change it – possesses. It’s an incredibly haunting performance that requires multiple listens of No Longer You, but there doesn’t seem to be a number that’s enough.
Epic is a genre-defining musical in its own right, joining the ranks of Hamilton, RENT and Hadestown instead of an extension of those that came before it. It would be a disservice to compare Epic to other musicals that signaled the beginning of a new era of musical theater composition. Rivera-Herrans is an incredible composer, there is just an insane number of layers, multiple meanings, and potential for analysis hidden within the score and libretto that furthers our understanding of the characters and Odysseus’ journey, both physically and philosophically. It’s such an amazing musical, it’s hard to completely do it justice. A must-listen for everybody.
By Katerina Partolina Schwartz
Photo Credit: Sarah Jing and Jon Sanchez
Pepper & Salt 
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