If you’ve ever wondered what the “Odyssey” would look like if the Sirens sang Beyoncé and cooked Annenberg-style red-spiced human, “Carrie and Otis” is for you. Running in the Adams Pool Theater from Oct. 23 to Oct. 26 and directed by Megan G. Jones ’16, the student-written play by Mike C. Ross ’16 tells the story of three Siren sisters named Carrie (Rachel C. Talamo ’18), Lorelei (Taylor L. Vandick ’16), and Marilyn (Madison M. Dildine ’16). Carrie, a teenager in spirit despite being hundreds of years old, enters a stage of angst-ridden existentialism and starts to wonder what it would be like to get to know the men her sisters lure to their island instead of eating them for dinner. When Otis (Adam S. Wong ’17), a handsome young man who likes the same kinds of music as Carrie, shows up, she gets her wish. Obviously, though, their relationship gets complicated: there are reasons why ancient, mythical monsters don’t usually date.

The Pool has a small, relaxed feel to it, and this is a small, relaxed kind of play. It didn't try to be thematically grand or artistically ground-breaking; instead, it tried to be sweet, pithy, funny, interesting, and generally fun. And it succeeded. The play easily fused “Zoolander” references with Greek tradition, and the contemporary sensibilities gave it a nice sharpness while the myth created a fun source of suspense for those familiar with the “Odyssey.” Waiting to find out which figure in the epic poem was Otis or Lorelai represented is half the fun of watching the play.

Even the set design itself worked cleverly with the Siren myth. According to the Greeks, the Sirens lived on sharp rocks into which they lured ships. The set (Kate A. Farineau ’16) included these cliffs, reminding the audience of the play’s mythical inspiration. Putting an entire set of cliffs on a very small stage might have been a difficult challenge, but Farineau succeeded admirably: it consisted mainly of large, painted rocks that symmetrically framed the stage and shrunk in size as they neared the audience. The placement of the rocks suggested that if the audience were to approach the stage, they too—like the ships—might face a collision. These set design choices created nifty, easily accessible off-stage spaces, as well as opportunities for enclosed, seemingly indoor spots.

The lighting (Joey R. Longstreet ’16), mostly unobtrusive, also allowed the rocks to cast large shadows on the back wall and further expanded the set. Otherwise, set pieces were mostly small, fun, sea-related objects: oars, a kiddie pool filled with blue confetti, small shells, subtly blue lighting. The restored pool element of the theater also contributed connotations of water to fun effect. The overall idea of combined myth and gentle playfulness fitted the play well.

The play’s tone was equally well-integrated; it seamlessly mixed sweetly awkward romance, music, drama, and witty meta-humor. When the play became a little more serious towards the end, it felt necessary and thoughtful rather than dark or unexpectedly tragic.

Much of the play’s success could also be attributed to the strong cast. Talamo presented Carrie as a smart, likable every-girl, and Wong gave Otis an easy charm and humor. The two had good chemistry, but they were still ultimately overshadowed a little by the other, more distinctive characters. Vandick gave Lorelei an interesting maturity and gravity, and Joe B. Palana ’17—who, in an inspired casting choice, played each successive doomed sailor—worked with hilarious, open-mouthed awe. And Dildine overshadowed everyone as Marilyn. With flawless comedic timing, she made Marilyn bubbly and cheerfully vapid while showing a touching earnestness. Her humor and charisma together took over the stage, particularly in one instance when she discovered the definition of Siren in a sailor’s book. Proclaiming that she was now smart because she wore glasses, Dildine made Marilyn’s pride in demonstrating her newfound knowledge both endearing and funny.

The actors also pulled off the play’s musical elements nicely. There was no traditional showtunes, but the characters did sing short snippets of songs when the plot calls for it. The female leads’ voices moved together particularly beautifully, nailing songs that ranged from the traditional to the contemporary. Dildine had a great, belt-y voice that fitted her character well, and Talamo’s voice was a pretty, soft, breathy quality. Occasionally, it verged on being a little too light, but the overall effect was successful. Incidentally, Wong was also a gifted whistler, putting a layer of frosting on the already tasty cake that is “Carrie and Otis.”

Humorous, thoughtful, and clever, the play iwas well worth a trip to Adams House’s basement. Come for the Gilmore Girls references; stay for an example of original and very well-done playmaking.