Philly Fringe 2025: Humble Materials presents Jessica Noel’s CASS

Depending on whose version of the story you know, Cassandra was either blessed with the gift of prophecy as a baby, or else she received the gift from the god Apollo. In some tellings, Cassandra promised herself to Apollo but then changed her mind upon receiving her gift; in other versions, the mere fact of her rejection of Apollo was enough; in either event, the sun god cursed her: she could see the future, yes, but nobody would ever believe her.

The script for CASS is primarily inspired by Euripides’s The Trojan Women, but as Cass (Amy Boehly) tells us at the start of the show, there are lots of different versions of Cassandra’s story, but none of them are hers.

Changing prophecies

Cass is aided by a helpful librarian (Yasmin Roberti) in telling a new version of her story, in which we see her as she really was: just a girl who loved the god who hurt her; just a daughter and a sister whose family didn’t believe she could help; just a victim who was defiled in the temple of the goddess she turned to for protection.

Only…that last part isn’t entirely true. Not, at least, in CASS. Canonically, the Greek hero Ajax sexually assaults Cassandra in the temple of Athena. The prophetess had seen this coming and appealed to the goddess of wisdom for protection, only to find she was speaking to a mere idol that toppled along with her. Neither Cassandra nor Athena had the power to change the prophecy. Without spoiling the short performance’s ending, I can say that’s not exactly what happens when Cass seeks protection from Athena (Lisa Vaccarelli). And the story is better for it.

We are all Cassandra

I watched recently as a man on social media asked something like, “Who was that guy in Greek mythology who could see the future, but nobody believed him?” and then women collectively informed him that he was thinking of Cassandra. The OP doubled down and said he was sure he was thinking of a male character. Some other men came out of the woodwork and insisted that OP was, in fact, thinking of the blind prophet Tiresias. The women pointed out that not only was Tiresias not universally disbelieved, but he also, for a time, lived as a woman—not exactly the OP’s “that guy.” OP only dug his heels in further, insisting that the mythological figure he was thinking of was definitely not Cassandra. And if this is not life imitating art, then I don’t know what is.

CASS is not as choreography-heavy as some of the troupe’s previous productions, but still uses dance to tell the story in its most intense moments. Choreographed by its performers (Boehly, Noel, Roberti, and Vaccarelli, in addition to Carolyn Breyer and Amy Henderson), the show feels shorter and less complete than its predecessors, but doesn’t carry any less resonance. In any form, Cassandra’s story is relevant today. The world is full of people who still refuse to believe the women who remember their history, understand their present, and know where we’re all headed if things don’t change.