The performers have to dance, to act, to sneer, to faint, to change costume quickly, to dash off stage to juggle effects that are projected on the great white wall of the set. Sophocles had messengers to report this or that offstage or long-ago event.
In Greek, these events are often seen first-hand.
Thus Eddy confronts the riddling Sphinx (two ladies, each in half a mask and singing mostly at once or in jagged harmony); we see him mocked by haughties in a wine bar; we see him beaten to a pulp by coppers; we see him commit murder and mayhem and success.
We see him resolve to tear out his eyes after his terrible sins, and then he cries “Bollocks to that!” and decides his crimes weren’t so bad. He’s a cocky chap, our Eddy; bouncing about from foot to foot like a boxer dodging the piledriver of fate, singing gutter slang in a breezy manner, spouting poetry, sneering like every limey in the East End.
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