Hats off to whoever greenlit Kaos on the Netflix team – this is surely the most bonkers show it’s put out in a long time.
In fact, if you’ve ever wanted to watch Jeff Goldblum prance around in a white tracksuit while simultaneously smiting the denizens of Earth, this is for you. Combining Greek mythology with, um, modern-day America, it’s a show that kind of defies explanation, but I’m going to do my best.
Goldblum plays Zeus, the King of the Gods, who has become a bit of tyrant in his old age. Estranged from his family – except for his sneering wife Hera (Janet McTeer) and resentful son Dionysus (Nabhaan Rizwan) – Zeus is living his dream life on Mount Olympus, until he discovers a new wrinkle on his face.
Convinced it’s the first sign of a prophecy destined to bring about his doom, he decides to go hell for leather in stopping that from happening. Only, of course, the wheels are already in motion, thanks to his long-term frenemy Prometheus (Stephen Dillane, rocking a loincloth), masterminding events from atop the remote mountain to which he’s been chained and providing us with heaped teaspoons of voiceover exposition.
Written by Charlie Covell, aka the person who brought The End of the F***ing World to our screens, the show is an explosion of creativity that practically seeps off the screen, punctuated by sharp bursts of wit and pathos.
Importantly, Kaos doesn’t require a detailed knowledge of Greek myths and heroes, and those that have been included have been liberally played with. And they’re played by a stacked cast: Billie Piper (sporting rotting teeth and a messy wig) crops up as the soothsayer Cassandra, while David Thewlis is a weary Hades.
If the show has a flaw, it’s in being too overambitious. In addition to Zeus (who is played by Goldblum with the campness dialled up to 100), we follow the stories of three humans – Caneus (Misia Butler), Riddy (Aurora Perrineau) and Ari (Leila Farzad) – who are supposedly integral to the downfall of the King of Gods.
Running their stories alongside that of Zeus and his pals makes for an interesting juxtaposition, and highlights how little power humans have compared to the gods, who abuse it enthusiastically. “Don’t think, just do what I say,” Poseidon tells the King of Krete at one point, during a scene in which he stuffs a toe into the other man’s mouth. It’s a neat scene, which makes its point rather eloquently: it’s past time for these guys to get their comeuppance. And why do we idolise the Greek pantheon so much anyway?
In addition to all that, the story also manages to shoehorn in time with the mythical Fury sisters, as well as Dionysus and Orpheus (Killian Scott), Riddy’s lover. Fortunately, these arcs are (mostly) compelling, and Covell makes sure to give most of these characters a bit of dimension, but even so, the endless parade of names and faces can become a bit wearing after a while.
Fortunately, there’s always entertainment to be had in simply watching the world expand in fun new ways. Our heroes do their shopping in supermarkets, but Greek flavoured – buying Spartan Crunch cereal and Gaea’s Granola. Trojan refugees, vilified since the Fall of Troy, live in Troytown, a ghetto in Krete’s main city. And even in the Underworld, things have been streamlined: these days, Medusa is a middle manager tasked with helping the dead get through processing.
The story is mad, the energy frenetic and the performances off-the-wall. But it all just about hangs together, and the end result is a glorious burst of firecracker energy. Just the thing to stave off those autumn blues.
