An Iliad

Sydney Theatre Company Wharf 1 Theatre, 18 April – 21 June 2026, Sydney

The review

This is a mature, content, strong production where the confidence of the established, technically equipped company matches the power of the performers and the historical depth, along with relevance to the world right now, of the play.

“An Iliad” is not a paraphrase of the epic poem by Homer; it is a recompiled story told by the Poet. The spiritual plot is brewing with a flow of the serenity of peaceful Troy, the happy love of Hector with his wife Andromache and their little kid, and then further to war, to death. Travelling through the story, there are big questions of dignity, respect, honor of traditions, reverence for fathers like King Priam who lost their son, ending up with a long, bloodcurdling list of wars continuing through history, till very now.  

The stage cornered by tall walls is a massive, empty black void at first. Then a large roller door, like the one in a workshop or factory, opens, allowing a glimpse of industrial pipes and a sink. The Poet (David Wenham), a casually looking man, tired, in a jacket that had seen better times, a shirt with sweat stains, disappears inside to fiddle for a bit and then rolls out a heavily packed cart, painfully reminiscent of one of Mother Courage. The one with boxes, drawers, all sorts of treasure and trash, and a double bass on top.

The Poet starts his story reluctantly, “I wish I would not do it anymore” is a continuous reflection - the harsh true reason of it reveals itself later.

The story is wonderfully theatrical. Slowly taking objects from his cart, the Poet fills the space with images. The sea, walls, the entire city of Troy with houses, courtyards, and fountains are vividly emerging in the mind's eye. He is taking a suitcase, slightly opening it, pouring sand on the floor. Then takes rocks out of his pocket to throw them over. Each rock is soft, except the last one, which suddenly drops hard - it is real.

The core event of the story is the fight between Hector and Achilles. When these warriors are mentioned first, a woman emerges from inside the cart. A singer and musician, in a plisse costume and sandals - a smart, stylish reference to Greek traditional clothes without an attempt to copy it bluntly, she accompanied the Poet’s story. Their rapport is astonishing. The story in words strengthened by the sounds of the flute, and the strings of the double bass, with strumming, tapping, playing, and most of all - her voice. Deep, surreal, which calls, longs, cries, celebrates.

The plot unfolds into an astounding multidimensional space flooded with beaming golden light, reflecting off bronze plates gradually attached to a wall, and filled with a sublime soundscape. To witness this transformation, when space and sounds grow, expand with the story, when a compact beginning revamps into an epic in meanings, voices, and space, is an ultimate theatre pleasure.

Subtly, the story brings the Poet into the description of the war, fights, hot smell of blood and dust, rage, and him, being content before, converts into a rampaged soldier, who is unstoppable in a primal desire to demolish the enemy. Shaking this part off, the Poet could just breathe out exhaustedly: “This is why I didn't want to tell this story”.​

This myth is a powerful anti-war cry, where death owns its own land, there are too many deceased, enough to inhabit it. There is sorrow, loss, weeping, destruction. The deeply embedded wish to fight, which seems to be not erasable from humans, is counterweighted by songs which Poets keep tirelessly bringing to the world. Darkness and light do coexist; for at least three thousand years of Western civilisation, there is still no winner.

PS. See here: “According to the UN, of the 195 countries it recognises, 93 are currently fighting wars beyond their borders, and 23 more enduring bloody civil wars  – more than half the planet is still on that Trojan beach.”

Cast

The Poet David Wenham

The Musician Helen Svoboda

Creative team

Playwrights Lisa Peterson and Denis O’Hare, adapted from Homer’s Iliad

Translator Robert Fagles

Director Damien Ryan

Designer Charles Davis

Lighting Designer Alex Berlage

Composer Helen Svoboda

Sound Designer Brady Watkins

Associate Director Ian Michael

Greek Language Consultant Deborah Galanos

Illusions & Magic Consultant Adam Mada

Voice & Text Director Charmian Gradwell

Illusions & Magic Associate Bruce Glen