Writer: Jo Kelen
Director: Kate Brown
Achilles, Death of the Gods is a spellbinding retelling of the myth of Achilles and Patroclus and their roles in the Trojan War.
From the very first moments, Jo Kelen (she/they) captivates the audience with an incredible one-person performance. As the lights go down and she sets the scene, it really does feel as though the audience in this intimate venue is perching on logs around the campfire and listening to a tale from a master storyteller. With only minimal props and deftly timed lighting changes, the focus is entirely on Kelen’s performance.
Her delivery is enchanting – they transform from haughty, arrogant Achilles to bitter, brooding Patroclus in a split second, using their voice, body language and positioning to the fullest. It’s remarkably easy to keep track of the ever-shifting characters portrayed – nobody could possibly confuse gung-ho Agamemnon with the weary Greek soldier he callously commands, or terrifying War with the traumatised yet eloquent Briseis.
The romance between Achilles and Patroclus is a remarkable feat – it feels so genuine, and their dialogue flows so smoothly from one character to the other and back again, that it’s hard to believe there’s only one performer onstage.
Kelen weaves a tale that doesn’t shy away from the casual cruelty of the war and those who wage it. (Content warnings for discussion of sexual violence, graphic descriptions of violence in battle, and desecration of corpses.)
The battle scenes are brutal and yet mesmerising. Kelen is in total command of the stage, bringing the violence to life with a compelling mixture of physicality and visceral description.
The story itself is beautifully told, with striking phrases and poetic imagery throughout. The moment an indifferent Achilles picks out Briseis as ‘his’ woman, simply because “she is first and therefore best” and thus is what he ‘deserves’ to have as chattel, it’s clear that this is a critical feminist portrayal rather than a romanticised version. The harrowing impact of the soldiers’ sexual violence is highlighted as Briseis narrates the sheer dehumanisation she is faced with – noting that the war has ripped the personhood from everyone present, so there’s not even any point in screaming or protesting, as her rapist “doesn’t speak my language – doesn’t think I have one.”
Overall, this is a fantastic spoken word performance that blends storytelling and theatre to create a bold, brilliant piece that is sure to captivate audiences throughout the Fringe.
Runs until 24 August 2025
