Troy, at Malthouse Theatre - 100 minutes, with no interval

With significant political, religious and cultural conflict in the world today, a reworking of a well-worn story about war seems particularly pertinent.

The Trojan War, fought around the 12^th century BCE, between the early Greeks and the people of Troy – now a part of Turkey – lasted a decade.

Photos by Pia Johnson

It was, arguably, sparked when Paris, the son of the Trojan king, and Helen, the wife of the Greek king, ran off to Troy together.

Now writer Tom Wright and director Ian Michael have gone to town on it, reconstituting the mythology and adding the adventurous spirit of archaeology.

Notwithstanding my earlier remark as to what sparked the war, the question of why is raised repeatedly early on, with no definitive answer given.

What is clear is that the residents of what is termed the end of the world, where little happens, are blindsided by the ruthlessness that follows.

Blood will be spilt and no shortage of it.

The Greek gods directly intervened in the war, with some favouring the Trojans and others the Greeks.

At the heart of the conflagration is a thirst for power. The result is a bloody mess, while love is well and truly tested. The grief is real. There is no glory. Only ruins.

We move from the past to the present day and back again.

A powerful ensemble – consisting of Ciline Ajobong, Paula Arundell, Danny Ball, Elizabeth Blackmore, Geraldine Hakewill, Lyndon Watts and Mark Leonard Winter – assumes multiple roles.

When we first meet them on a sand infused, beige, semicircular stage, incorporating nine levels of stairs, sand cascades from above. Is this an allegory for the sands of time?

Clothed elegantly … strikingly in gold, black and white, the combatants stand strong and defiant.

Before this is over, some will be in their swimsuits, daggers in hand.

The set and costume designer Dann Barber doesn’t hold back on either. His evocation is triumphant.

Paul Jackson’s bold lighting design chillingly reflects the turn of fortunes.

Composer Rosalind Hall and sound designer Marco Cher add gravitas.

The sounds of incessant shelling and gunfire, downing many, in a large-scale slaughter, late in the piece, are particularly distressing.

My mind was immediately transported to the wars being fought in Ukraine and the Middle East. My heart was full of anguish.

And this wasn’t the only time theatricality took me to the here and now. Slaying at close quarters is also a recurring conceit, which has a contemporary corollary.

Think gang warfare and machete attacks in a city on edge – my own beloved hometown – no longer safe, its citizens living in fear.

There is a rawness and muscularity in what is a highly interpretative Malthouse Theatre offering.

An understanding of the gods, the Greeks and the Trojans before entering the theatre would certainly be helpful.

Regardless, the outcome is transformative.

There is a visceral quality about what we see and hear unfolding on stage, which, unfortunately, resonates all too clearly in today’s conflicted world.

We appear to be paying no heed to history’s lessons.

One hundred minutes without interval, Troy is on at Merlyn Theatre, at Malthouse Theatre until 25^th September, 2025.