A Dionysus like this, a “molecule that deviates and violates,” who has golden skin but resembles a political refugee, there will always be someone who will be terrified of him, who will define him as an “asteroid capable of destroying everything just as it had been conceived,” while for someone else, he will be an object of desire for which to abandon everything.

The voices—with English and Greek surtitles, often sung—become the bearers of a word that no longer seeks dialogue but is instead suggestion, proclamation, or supplication. While the richness of signs and themes does refer back to the carnal violence and gender fluidity already inherent in the myth, this modernization risks getting lost in a chaotic stage presentation. If in Euripides' version the arrival of the hidden god became the manifestation of nature's power—ecstatic, primal, and multifaceted—here we find ourselves in a world where this force seems to have passed, and we sense a less incisive shadow of it, which dilutes even further in the long performative finale.