In 2013, the National Theatre of Greece asked Olivier Py to direct Yannis Mavritsakis's latest play, Vitrioli. The director and the poet had met the year before, when Olivier Py had directed The Blind Spot for the radio station France Culture. Vitrioli is the story of a family, set against the backdrop of a crisis, of an intimate war. It is about the Greece of today, but in an indirect manner; it speaks of humanity, but never in terms of economic and political concepts. It tells of a catastrophe, of a world where nothing is possible anymore, of a sacrificed generation that dies without even trying to rebel anymore. Its main character is a young man who is aware of his inability to do anything, to escape other people's desires (be they a potential girlfriend, his mother, a hermaphrodite, his priest, his doctor, even strangers). He accepts his role as the object of other people's fantasies, of their neurotic projections, of their fears and anxieties... If Mavritsakis's play owes a lot to ancient tragedy, it is also much darker. There is no salvation to be found, not from the heavens, not from within, not from art or from words. And the pessimism of Vitrioli is only equalled by its lucidity, which is completely devoid of cynicism and of moralising posturing. Mavritsakis holds a mirror to his country and to the anxieties of a youth that has lost all spirituality. This is echoed by the bifrontal scenography, which has the audience see themselves watching the catastrophe unfold, like a choir, against a backdrop of mud and light.