When Rama met Odysseus is the kind of speculative, cultural summit meeting of which the outcome is as hypothetical as Bach meeting Handel or Bob Dylan co-writing with Keats. A Ramayan Odyssey delves right back into the sixth century BC to effect a fusion of the foundation texts of European and oriental culture.
It is probably the most hypothetical introduction of all - precisely how many Homers were there, for example? Not to mention that there are as many Ramayanas as there are Indian languages. But if anyone is capable of making this crossover meaningful, it has to be the culturally omnivorous, theatrically adventurous British-Asian company Tara Arts.
Jatinder Verma's company is currently engaged on a four-year project to develop a modern epic of Indian migration, called Journey to the West. It will take the form of a three-part testimony of three generations of Asian migrants, presented in Manchester as part of the celebrations accompanying the Commonwealth Games. As the Ur-texts of migratory wandering, this conflation of the Ramayana and the Odyssey is presented by way of a prequel.
Director Verma intriguingly suggests that while Rama and Odysseus never actually met along the silk road, their broad narratives are essentially cut from the same cloth. The contours of both stories are strikingly complementary. Both are tales of exiled wandering, one across water, the other over land. Both describe the long separation and eventual reunion of the hero and his wife. Both feature incredible monsters with a shortage of eyes or a preponderance of heads. Even the significance of archery is shared - Penelope's suitors are unable to string Odysseus's weapon; Sita's paramours are unable to pick her father's bow up.
There is plenty of potential for cross-referencing here, but Verma's production only gets the job half done. Rather than continuously weaving the narratives together, both run in parallel either side of the interval. While the masked figures of Rama and Odysseus occasionally interject into each other's stories, both remain marginal to the opposite myth.
Rather than drawing the strands together, Verma leaves the audience to perceive its own connections. It is, perhaps, a laudable attempt not to underestimate the intelligence of the spectator, but instead of the expected dialogue, east never really talks to west in an epic of two halves.
• At the Everyman, Liverpool (0151-709 4776) from tomorrow until June 23, then touring.
