At Ragnarok, creation ends and begins anew. The stories will be retold and remixed as different cultures take different meanings from them. If it’s cyclical, then, what difference between Ouroboros and the Squared Circle? It all ends at the beginning.
We’re talking Norse mythology — used for comic books, novels, films, and lightly in training dragons. But creator Ed Gamester takes it to a new medium and a new level. Stage adaptations abound, but never like Mythos: Ragnarok. Drawing upon his background as a wrestler and stunt performer, he retells the mythology as if were a wrestling event. Actors grapple with the meaning of the myth, and when words have been spent, they grapple with each other. It’s dazzling and engrossing, encouraging its theater audience to boo and cheer the gods.
Though it’s essentially a bare stage, the work of designer Melanie Watson keeps the eye on elegant costumes impeccably lit. Bringing Surtur to the stage can be no easy feat. It takes more than just an imposing actor. He who would end it all needs horns and the suggestion of being fire itself. The costumes do get stripped down when wrestling takes the forefront, but they impressively underscore the storytelling.
Gamester casts himself as Odin, here taking his impressive accomplishments and declaring his family gods. Never mind that his half-brother Loki (Richard Summers Calvert) probably did as much for these achievements. Though that’s hard to be sure, as both gods have no shortage of arrogance. Loki makes a good case, but Odin establishes at the outset that it’s his story.
The script alludes to stories familiar and not-so-familiar, maintaining a coherent narrative throughout and acknowledging that some of those tales are downright strange. Odin lashing himself to Yggdrasil and losing an eye gets glossed over, but new eye make-up blacks out one eye late in the show. Of course, Thor plays a large role (Miles Ley the night we saw it). You might be surprised how dumb the God of Thunder is, but it tracks. And Mjolnir makes an appearance, too.
They’re not all physically imposing, though let’s not test the theory. Appropriately enough, Rachel Seagroatt’s Hel is tiny in comparison to her fellow gods but relentless. Her victories are completely believable.
Of course professional wrestling has been theatrical, creating ever-changing narratives. But applying an established story takes the art to a different plane. The few plays that have incorporated wrestling have been about wrestling. Here, wrestling may be crucial to how they tell the story, but Mythos: Ragnarok is never about anything else but mythology. It’s exciting to speculate on where Gamester could go next, but first this production needs to get better known. Playing at Theatre Fringe Festivals globally, Mythos: Ragnarok needs a spotlight that’s 100% its own.
