Netflix’s ‘Kaos’ Takes the Misogyny out of Greek Myths
Image; Netflix
Picture this: You are watching a movie, reading a book, or consuming a piece of media that does not sit right with you. Perhaps you don’t like the Happily Ever After (or lack thereof) established for a side character or how the women characters on the show are treated, and you tell yourself: ‘I wish it had gone this way instead.’
This impulse is front and center with Charlie Covell’s latest outing on Netflix, Kaos (2024-present), a show that brings Greek mythology to the 20th century. We see some of our oldest stories told in a more modern framing: Zeus in a tracksuit, an underworld run like the TSA, and, for our purpose today, a retelling of old tales with modern, feminist sensibilities.
Recontextualizing Medusa
Over the last couple of decades, there has been a bit of a feminist recontextualization of Greek myths, which originally, due to the misogyny of Greek society, were quite sexist.
As a classic example, take the character Medusa — the only Gorgon born a mortal and, consequently, not naturally “monstrous.” She was considered so beautiful that Posedein, the God of the Sea, lusted after her beauty, having sex with her in the temple of Athena. Depending on the version of the tale, the consent of this interaction can be quite dubious by modern standards. As Emily Wenstrom writes in Book Riot:
“…depending on which [version] you pick up, either Medusa seduced Poseidon or he was smitten with her and took her. In other words, the mythology of Medusa holds within it a classic he said/she said story of rape and victim blaming.”
And this interaction is not the end of the story. Athena is so enraged by this violation of her temple grounds that she punishes Medusa (not Posiden, whose too big to fail) for being “boastful.” The goddess transforms Medusa into a creature with snakes on her head and a face so “hideous” that it petrifies all those who look at her.
Dated is probably too charitable to describe this story. A woman suffering a violent transformation because of a God raping her does not sit well with a lot of modern viewers because it flies in the face of everything we think about modern notions of consent.
And so, in recent years, Medusa has been depicted as more of a tragic figure who was wronged by the Gods. An early example is the 2010 book Retelling: Set in Stone by author R.C. Berry, where Medusa is portrayed as a naive teen caught in the crossfire of the gods and becomes emotionally hardened as a result.
The Charmed reboot (2022) has an entire episode where the character Medusa is redeemed (see Switches & Stones). She is summoned accidentally by a sister in a college sorority who we learn has been slut shamed by her peers. Medusa is there to bring justice and starts petrifying the complicit sorority and fraternity members. The protagonists, the Charmed Ones, do not slay her for this but instead validate the Gorgon’s story. The Charmed sister, Macy (Madeleine Mantock), saying:
“I see you. And I'm not going to turn away. You were cursed to cover up the crime of a powerful man. So that no one would ever see your pain. But I see it and I am so sorry. Know that you are not to blame.”
In the Disney+ show Percy Jackson and the Olympians (2023-present), the main character’s mother explicitly tells her son not to view Medusa in an entirely negative light: “Not everyone who looks like a hero is a hero, and not everyone who looks like a monster is a monster” she lectures about the mythological figure.
Kaos expands upon this tradition by showing us a Medusa who is not merely a victim of the Gods — although she certainly is — but someone who wants her revenge. She is a burnt-out worker trying to keep the cogs of the Underworld running, and secretly, she is a radical working with heretics who want to bring down the Gods.
We have a character rather than an object, and she is not the only example of this on the show.
Retelling Orpheus and Eurydice
We see a similar recontextualization in Kaos with its retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice, which is my favorite adaptation of the entire show.
For those unaware, the core of this story has traditionally been about a woman, the titular Eurydice, dying tragically, and then her lover Orpheus trying to return her to the land of the living. Orpheus walks to hell and back for the sake of his love, but it’s not a happy ending. The God of the Underworld, Hades, only lets Orpheus leave with Eurydice if he promises not to look back at her while they make their journey.
It’s a challenge he fails, forcing Eurydice to return to the Underworld alone.
One of the bigger feminist critiques of this myth is that Eurydice has little agency (i.e., she doesn’t make decisions) in the story. She is an object for Orpheus to pursue and learn from.
And so more modern texts have been trying to change that so Eurydice is not as passive in their stories. The musical Hadestown (2006), for example, focuses just as much on developing Eurydice as Orpheus. We come to know her as someone molded by the harsh realities of a world where Fall and Spring do not come (see Any Way the Wind Blows).
Even her death is reframed not as an event that happens to her, usually via a snake bite, but something she chooses to do due to the harsh conditions of the season. She is out gathering food, lost in a storm, separated from Orpheus, and on the verge of death. She is tired, and when Hades gives her a way out — death via a snake bite — she takes it.
The story portrays Orpheus as neglectful. He was held up in his home, working on his music to make the Gods return Spring and Fall, and he left the work of surviving all to Eurydice. She arguably died because he didn’t help her, and the text lets the viewer know it. When Orpheus asks Hermes, the Messengers of the Gods, where Eurydice is, he mocks Orpheus, singing:
“Brother, what do you care? You’ll find another muse somewhere.”
We see a familiar beat in the video game Hades (2020), which takes place after the couple’s failed journey to the Underworld. Now, both of them are dead, and Eurydice is angry with Orpheus for failing to save her. She instructs your player to tell Orpheus she’s doing fine without him when you first bring the subject up.
Kaos takes a similar approach to these other texts, but it’s by far the most direct of these recontextualizations I have seen. Orpheus is not a villain, but he’s not a hero either. He is the reason why Eurydice does not reincarnate, as he refuses to place her coin — the payment she needs to pass on — on her casket.
His attachment to her is so toxic that Eurydice falls out of love with him well before she ever arrives in the Underworld. She is suffocated by his need, something we see metaphorically represented in the song Eurydice, where he sings possessive lyrics such as “Is it a little too much. Breathin’ the air from your lungs?”
He didn’t neglect to put the coin on her grave to save her, but because, selfishly, he couldn’t let her go.
When they finally reconnect — and I am going to avoid the more plot elements — she is grateful for his rescue, but she does not become the reward for his efforts. They still break up, and in a twist, I found to be frankly brilliant, Orpheus cannot look at Eurydice, not because of a grand bargain with the God Hades, but because he is hurt by their breakup.
He cannot bring himself to look at her because of her decision, which has an entirely different focus from the original myth.
A mythical conclusion
Greek myths have been the subject of feminist reinvention for decades, and Kaos is no different. We focused briefly on how it ties into a feminist reimagining of the myths of Medusa as well as Orpheus and Eurydice, but we could have also expanded our focus to the story of Ariadne, the Furys, Hades and Persephone, and many more.
There’s a lot here that I encourage you to check out. Kaos is a show that effortlessly interweaves many different stories together in a way that doesn’t feel clunky and updates them to reflect modern sensibilities.
And I’m thankful for that. Because while the ancient Greeks told sexist stories, it’s refreshing to see them remixed into something a little easier to swallow.