Grief is a complicated emotion. It constantly surprises the person who bears it, especially when anguish inspires absurd behavior. New York's Big Dance Theater, co-directed by Annie-B Parson and Paul Lazar, wholly embraces the wealth of contradictions within the grieving process in "Supernatural Wife" performing this weekend at Walker Art Center.

Anne Carson's lively translation of the 2,000-year-old "Alkestis" by Euripides drives this masterfully layered dance theater work about a bizarre deal with Death (Aaron Mattocks). A silent movie sets up the story. King Admetos (Molly Hickock in a gender-bending role) barters for more time, so his wife, Alkestis (Tymberly Canale), agrees to die in his stead. Admetos tries to spin this bizarre scenario as a win-win, but when Alkestis actually goes he falls into self-pitying sorrow that later evolves into something genuine. An intervention from unexpected houseguest Herakles (Pete Simpson) returns Alkestis to life, but the couple is forever changed.

Hickock infuses the king with the broad comedic style of Yiddish Theater traditions, skillfully balancing the foolish and redeeming parts of this morally mixed-up character. Canale assumes the take-no-guff moxie of classic female silver-screen stars, talking in a fast-paced patter as she fearlessly bargains with the increasingly annoyed Death. And Simpson is particularly sly in his role as Herakles (aka Hercules), who shows his strength by making an entrance while pounding on a drumset. He's a rock-and-roll demigod with a pragmatic sense of honor.

Aside from the text, the evening-length piece is built upon several thoughtfully integrated multidisciplinary elements. Parson's whirling choreography, created with the company, draws upon ancient Pontian Greek dance forms but infused with a distinct contemporary edge. This is folk dancing for the 21st century, communicating multiple messages with its constantly chattering hand signals, bold leaping turns and heavy-booted stomping. The accompanying music by David Lang, Carter Burwell, Richard Howgill and Jane Shaw roils with raucous energy.

Performer Chris Giarmo transforms the cast into a chorus but he also shifts the scenes, calls out stage directions and controls the video segments that add virtual characters to the mix. He is the all-knowing narrator who, like us, finds himself sucked into this strange tale of greed and love, one timeless in its portrayal of humanity's never-ending shortcomings when aspiring to the immortal.