From Marvel to Neil Gaiman, Norse mythology has loomed large in recent years. Now comes Ragnarok, a fantastic theatrical retelling of the Norse apocalypse by Tortoise In A Nutshell in collaboration with Figurteatret I Nordland. The show follows a young girl and her brother as they journey across the wasteland that was once Earth, hoping to find safety in their childhood home. Along the way, they must contend with not only the gods, but also natural disasters and angry, hungry people.

Ragnarok is an utterly unique multimedia experience, utilising film, theatre, music and puppetry to imagine the end of the world. Human characters are represented by clay figurines that could be straight from an archaeological dig, while the set evokes the eddic landscape by having Yggdrasil, the Old Norse tree which connects the worlds, as its focal point.

Ragnarok is an incredibly ambitious piece of theatre. The four-person cast have the task of positioning the figurines and filming them perfectly in time with the pre-recorded dialogue. This film is then projected onto a large circular screen which doubles as the sun and moon. It’s a huge endeavour that pays off spectacularly at every turn. Each movement and camera angle are meticulously planned and executed, giving the impression of fate unfolding. The cast themselves seem to take on the role of gods, moving those figurines in accordance with a divinely ordained plot.

Visually, Ragnarok is a marvel, but it is the live soundtrack, performed and designed by Jim Harbourne, that gives this show its energy. There is something fittingly ritualistic about the music, from tribal drum beats to a dirge-like hurdy gurdy. It even becomes ethereal at times, using technical effects to layer lamenting voices on top of each other. The music is often paired with masked dance and animalistic movement at key points in Ragnarok’s timeline. In particular, one moment where the world-serpent releases its tail sends a shiver down the spine. 

Beyond sheer technical mastery, Ragnarok succeeds perfectly in blending the real with the mythological. Scattered references to overconsumption in the modern day lend relevance to this apocalyptic vision without detracting from a universal feel, while grand themes like fate, transience and rebirth are expertly tied into the more grounded notions of loss and familial love. It’s ultimately a story of displacement, and Ragnarok’s mixture of legend and reality reminds us that our ancestors had the same anxieties and mourned the same tragedies as we do today. The resultant production is a true gem that manages to be terrifying, bleak, hopeful, thoughtful and heartbreaking all at once.

Ragnarok tours until Thursday 28 March; reviewed at Traverse Theatre, Edinburgh, as part of Manipulate.