Jeff Goldblum’s Quirky Zeus Stars in Netflix’s Shallow Greek Mythology Series

Playing like Percy Jackson for grownups, with a dash of American Gods and Hadestown thrown in, Netflix’s dark comedy Kaos is brimming with grand ideas that creator Charlie Covell struggles to delve into deeply.

Over eight hour-long episodes, my reactions to Kaos’ clever twists on mythology evolved from “That’s really cool, I can’t wait to see what they do with that” to “That’s interesting, but I know it won’t go anywhere” to a mere “Meh.” Amid an impressive cast and a cheeky tone, the show shifts from promising to frustrating to ultimately disappointing — though still with glimpses of what might have been.

Jeff Goldblum steals the show as Zeus, the powerful yet neurotic king of gods who rules from Mt. Olympus alongside his sister-wife Hera (Janet McTeer). Zeus is consumed by anxiety over the sincerity of human sacrifices and a prophecy foretelling his downfall. His insecurity has led to the ostracization of his brothers Poseidon (Cliff Curtis) and Hades (David Thewlis), and the eternal torture of his former best friend Prometheus (Stephen Dillane). So high-maintenance is Zeus that the only one among his children who still picks up his calls is Dionysus (Nabhaan Rizwan), a bored club kid seeking validation from his father.

On Earth, mortals are resigned to being mere pawns in the hands of gods, the Fates, and the Furies. But could they be on the brink of overthrowing the deities and claiming free will? Maybe. Perhaps. One thing is certain: Cassandra (Billie Piper) tried to warn everyone.

Three mortals might hold the key to challenging the gods. Eurydice (Aurora Perrineau), or “Riddy,” is growing disenchanted with her pop star husband Orpheus (Killian Scott). Ariadne (Leila Farzad) is royal by birth, yet tired of being defined by past traumas. Then there’s Caeneus (Misia Butler), who toils in the Underworld, burdened by family betrayal.

In the initial episodes, it’s evident why Covell was drawn to the idea of a society where Greek gods play a central role.

For a while, the world-building is dynamic. Set in Greece (mainly Crete) but filmed in Spain, everything about Kaos feels slightly offbeat. It’s fun to decipher the cultural and spiritual quirks, from cereal varieties to clothing and architecture. The series constantly references beloved mythological figures from the works of Edith Hamilton or D’Aulaires. The effect is akin to Mike Flanagan’s blending of family drama and Poe references in The Fall of the House of Usher, but with a more satirical edge.

Fans of mythology will enjoy spotting when Covell stays true to canon, makes modern adjustments, or completely reinvents stories. The series aims to reflect on myth-making and the narratives that lend our lives meaning, but it falters in offering substantial commentary or depth.

Sadly, the series often becomes a sequence of intriguing moments held together by an overbearing soundtrack and intrusive narration, rather than a coherent story. The plot degrades into squabbling deities interspersed with Riddy’s voyage to the Underworld and Ari’s endeavors, lacking real momentum. It culminates in an ending that embodies the chaos of Kaos, but by then, it’s hard to care.

Good ideas are rarely followed through. One intriguing subplot involving a trans man raised by Amazons is their second mention, deserving a fuller story rather than being a mere footnote. Better concepts are frequently disregarded or diminished by abrupt exits. The monochromatic vision of the Underworld, for instance, transforms from intriguing to tiresome, leading to a feeble twist with less impact than Sausage Party’s similar twist.

Ideally, stories like this expand their worlds progressively. Kaos, however, narrows its scope, too adult for kids and not mature enough for adults.

The series’ saving grace is the stellar cast’s performances.

Every one of Goldblum’s lines is a gem. In today’s political climate, his portrayal of Zeus, as a tyrant shaped by omnipotence and isolation, is both funny and strangely fitting. Other characters seem to be in different shows—Goldblum channels Wes Anderson, McTeer evokes Shakespeare, and Curtis relaxes like he’s tanning on a yacht.

Individually, it’s easy to appreciate McTeer’s regal scheming, Rizwan’s exuberant immersion in the mortal world, and Thewlis’ intellectual musings on the afterlife, complemented by Rakie Ayola’s unique Persephone. Butler stands out among humans, and cameos from Piper, Debi Mazar, and Suzy Eddie Izzard add vibrancy.

Netflix first commissioned Kaos in 2018, and despite delays due to a global pandemic and industry strikes, I’ve eagerly awaited its release, partly because Covell previously created the hilariously dark The End of the F***ing World. Kaos offers only a trace of similar sharp dialogue and even less cohesive worldview.

You sense the original enthusiasm in Covell’s vision that convinced Netflix to greenlight it. Yet, noticeable are the half-finished elements intended to be fleshed out later, but ultimately left unpolished.

Source: Particle News