Tag Archives: Daniel Outis

JEEZUS!

★★★½

Underbelly Boulevard

JEEZUS!

Underbelly Boulevard

★★★½

“irreverent, inventive, and occasionally chaotic”

Born in late-80s Lima to a mother who calls him her “miracle baby,” Jesús grows up in the shadow of both the church and his homophobic father’s military career. As he prepares for his first holy communion, Jesús finds himself navigating life and faith. For while the church hails him as a model altar boy, he is experiencing revelations of his own — namely, a growing attraction to none other than Jesus Christ himself, whose long hair and big feet leave the boy questioning everything he knows about where worship begins and desire ends.

It’s a setup ripe for melodrama, but Alpaqa Theatre Collective’s Jeezus! opens at Soho’s Underbelly Boulevard with a wink rather than a sermon. As Jesús (played throughout by Sergio Antonio Maggiolo) struts onto the stage, adorned in bright white and purple ecclesiastical garments (Carolina Rieckhof) alongside Guido Garcia Lueches (who multi-roles throughout), their innuendo-laden script quickly sets up a bawdy, irreverent look at faith and queer love.

The production makes inventive use of its small space. A screen at the back of the stage projects chapter-like titles that borrow from ecclesiastical events and Bible passages, guiding the audience through Jesús’ journey and occasionally pairing with playful lighting cues that draw out some of the show’s recurring motifs. There’s even a full AV sequence that leans into a deliberate “so-bad-it’s-good” aesthetic — a choice that fits perfectly with the show’s irreverent humour and self-awareness.

Laura Killen’s direction keeps the energy high and the tone well judged, ensuring the chaos always feels intentional rather than uncontrolled. At times, her touch even elevates the script with knowing nods — there’s a particularly great scene in which the pair subtly re-enact famous Mary and Jesus imagery while talking. The only criticism is that some of the staging sits too low on the floor, meaning those beyond the third row miss out on parts of the action.

Special mention must be given to both actors, who deliver excellent performances throughout. Antonio Maggiolo is superb as the beating heart of the show, with strong physical comedy, while Garcia Lueches’ multi-role performance shows incredible comic timing and range, providing something new and fresh to play off in every scene. From perverted priests to a scene where he bounces effortlessly between Jesús’ mother and father — sometimes mid-sentence — and even the son of God himself, there’s no role he doesn’t take on with aplomb.

The music flits between a range of genres — from acoustic ballads to energetic pop — and at one point even features a revised rendition of Carmina Burana: O Fortuna that will have you chuckling (a sentence I never thought I’d write). Both the music and vocals do their job with conviction and sincerity, even if this isn’t the sort of score that’ll stick in your head on the journey home. The dance choreography (Vivian Gabel), though inherently basic, carries an earnest energy that feels true to the production’s scrappy, heartfelt tone. This isn’t a West End-scale musical, nor does it try to be; instead, Jeezus! succeeds as a piece that’s genuinely greater than the sum of its parts.

And despite the shock value and bawdy entertainment (I imagine devout Catholics will find it a harder watch than this lapsed one), there’s a tenderness underpinning the entire piece. At its heart, the show is less concerned with provocation and more interested in reconciling queer identity with faith — in exploring how devotion and desire can coexist. That emotional thread keeps the show grounded, even when the humour teeters toward excess (there’s one moment, in particular, where it feels the dick jokes might tip the show over the edge, though thankfully it never does).

As with many Fringe productions, you’re often left in one of two camps: grateful it was only an hour, or wishing it had the space to breathe; this firmly falls into the latter. Its pace is brisk — enjoyable, yes — but at times it skims across the surface of ideas that deserve a deeper dive. It leaves you wondering how much more potent it could be with just twenty extra minutes to let those emotional beats land and explore characters in greater depth.

Still, that brevity doesn’t dampen its charm. At its best, Jeezus! feels like a two-man fusion of recent West End successes — Operation Mincemeat and The Book of Mormon — part camp parody, part heartfelt confession. It’s irreverent, inventive, and occasionally chaotic, but behind its blasphemous grin beats a very sincere heart.



JEEZUS!

Underbelly Boulevard

Reviewed on 16th October 2025

by Daniel Outis

Photography by Charlie Flint


 

 

 

 

JEEZUS

JEEZUS

JEEZUS

ODYSSEUS, NOT YOUR HERO

★½

Bread and Roses Theatre

ODYSSEUS, NOT YOUR HERO

Bread and Roses Theatre

★½

“there are moments of wit …”

“If these are our heroes, what does that make us?” This is the central conceit posed throughout Odysseus, Not Your Hero, an irreverent retelling of selected episodes from the Greek epic. Odysseus, the so-called hero of Homer’s tale, finds his famous journey home after the Trojan War reframed through a decidedly modern — and frequently mocking — lens.

Irreverent it certainly is. At one point, the narrator gleefully describes all previous English translations of the epic being thrown into a coffin and urinated on, as if to suggest this interpretation is the definitive one. Unfortunately, it never quite earns that boldness, and the question it poses never lands with the weight the writing seems to demand.

Created by Cyborphic, a science-fiction and Greek theatre company, and staged as part of the Lambeth Fringe, this interpretation — written, directed and performed by Christos Callow Jr. as Odysseus — sets out to showcase the hero’s less admirable exploits. Poseidon (taken on by Anastasia Thiras, who also multi-roles throughout) condemns him to a gauntlet of challenges, from preparing a meal for a cannibalistic cyclops to resisting the siren call of influencer-style temptresses. As you might expect, there is no shortage of reinvention and absurdity along the way.

The prize for success? His safe return to Ithaca. Aided by Nausicaa (Kat Kourbeti), reimagined not as the pining lover of myth but as a curious fusion of AI and Star Trek–style holodeck, Odysseus is judged through each of Poseidon’s trials. Kourbeti plays the role of scorekeeper with deliberate indifference, her detached performance aligning with the production’s mocking tone. Part Brechtian farce, part chaotic sketch, the story leaps from game to game, peppered with audience participation that asks us to judge the man not by his legend but by his actions.

Ultimately, this is not the Odysseus you might remember from school textbooks. Rather than the cunning tactician whose guile and wit were known throughout the land, this Odysseus emerges arrogant, ignorant, and easily distracted — his reputation for brilliance built on shaky ground.

That failure to live up to expectation unfortunately also extends to the rest of the production. While there are flashes of humour in the script, some of the dialogue feels stilted, and the performances lack the polish required to elevate the concept. Characters come across as one-note, and this is largely undermined by the frequent fourth-wall breaks which, while raising some laughs from the audience, ultimately undercut any chance of tension or momentum, leaving a production that rarely shifts into a higher gear.

Rarely, but not never: the play briefly finds its footing in the moments when Poseidon and Odysseus engage the audience, cast as the hero’s weary crew desperate to return home to Ithaca. These interactions bring the room to life and reveal the performers at their most comfortable, playing off spectators rather than each other.

Set, costume and lighting are economical — unsurprising in a fringe production — while a light score fills gaps as costumes are changed onstage. Poseidon’s fishing vest and cap neatly suggest a man of the sea, while Odysseus’ T-shirt, complete with a sketched-on six-pack, leaves the audience to imagine the resplendent armour he might otherwise wear.

Though there are moments of wit and occasional audience engagement, ultimately the faltering execution prevents the show from finding a clear identity. And while Odysseus, Not Your Hero suggests a bold re-evaluation of hero worship and the famous voyage home, in the words of the Bard, it’s all Greek to me.



ODYSSEUS, NOT YOUR HERO

Bread and Roses Theatre

Reviewed on 2nd October 2025

by Daniel Outis


 

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SOBRIETY ON THE ROCKS | ★★★★ | July 2022

 

 

ODYSSEUS

ODYSSEUS

ODYSSEUS