Trackers of Oxyrhynchus, Tom Purbeck. Photo: S R Taylor Photography

@OughtToBeClowns challenged me to write my review for this in verse as that is how the play is written and performed. So this is my vain attempt...apologies in advance.

Tony Harrison's play has a title virtually unpronounceable,

It draws on ancient Greek traditions and the performers definitely aren't inaudible.

Grenfell succumbs to the will of Apollo the god in fact you could say it's more like possessed,

And shortly after that the satyrs are called from the places in which they hide and they rest.

In boxes and crates and behind curtains tall, they appear half naked but more into beer than into brawn.

They have furry brown legs and male appendages sewn on,

There was, however, nothing fake about the crack of the bum.

Apollo charges those that are half men and half goat to find out the whereabouts of his beloved bovine herd,

What transpires is their guts are now strings on a lyre which Hermes plays with a sound as sweet as any bird. 

It's a bonkers story and a bit of a batty play with earnest delivery, if a little bit shouty, and one did get to wondering

Whether the energy of satyrs tap dancing dislodged any dust from the Finborough's pub ceiling.

It is 75 minutes long and I'm giving it three stars. You can catch it at the Finborough until January 28.