Set within the confines of a Victorian gentleman’s parlour, When Atlas Met Tantalus explores the impact of societal pressures on finding and accepting one’s true identity.

Within a simple set (a fireplace, chairs and side tables), Caitlin MacGregor’s subdued lighting subtly conjures up being in 1897, and the audience waits, along with James Cartwright (Lucas Livesey) for the action to begin. A sense of tension similar to the territory of J. B. Priestley’s An Inspector Calls pervades the fittingly tight space of Greenwich Theatre Studio.

Into the parlour bursts Edwin Scott (Simon Christian), escaping from a dinner celebrating his engagement to Cartwright’s sister: an engagement that Scott has just broken off.

Both actors quickly and effectively establish their characters and the differences between them, well aided by Emma Hollows’ costumes. Livesey’s Cartwright in his Wildean dressing gown and velvet slippers is, initially at least, sardonically in control, while Christian’s Scott in waistcoat and shirtsleeves crashes around the room, full of nervous energy. At first, the clash of these energies make it feel somewhat as though each actor is in a differently styled production. However, over the course of an hour, there is a shift in these energies; Livesey becoming more animated, Christian more assured. These changes bring a depth to the unfolding of the men coming to understand each other, and their realising that they have more in common than their surface personas otherwise suggest.

The metaphors of Atlas and Tantalus unfold nicely throughout the piece. At first, it seems that Scott, like Atlas, is the one carrying a great weight on his shoulders, but it slowly becomes clear that despite his supposed self-assurance, Cartwright has his own burden. And as in the myth of Tantalus, both men desire things that are just out of reach, although it is society’s prejudices causing this, not the whims of the gods.

Two other nods to the myths are embodied in the props. The men first take a brandy from a tantalus– a locked decanter case that allows the spirits to be on show but untouchable – and then a sherry from a globe drink cabinet – the model of the world hiding it’s true contents. A rather less subtle metaphor is the inclusion of a clothes closet to hide in whenever there is a knock at the door.

Tiff Milner’s writing is tight, with the men verbally sparring for the hour. While the main theme of coming to terms with being gay within oppressive times is well explored, other themes such as class differences and familial relationships are only touched upon – a longer piece might have been able to flesh these out. The direction by Milner, together with Emily Layton, keeps everything moving swiftly along, and both actors do justice to the writing and direction.

When Atlas Met Tantalus is a good reminder that giving voice to who you are is crucial both for self-acceptance and for societal change.

*** Three stars

Reviewed by: Mike Askew

When Atlas Met Tantalus plays at Greenwich Theatre Studio until 24 August, with further info here.