An ancient story takes shape in Marin Shakespeare Company’s capacious black box on Fourth Street in San Rafael.

A retelling of one of the oldest tales in the historical era — since the advent of writing — this “Epic of Gilgamesh” blends history and mythology with some of the most basic actors’ exercises, in a fascinating and compelling couple of hours. Adapted by director Nate Currier, son of Marin Shakespeare Company founders Robert and Lesley Currier, the story’s dialog is written largely in rhyme. It explores the certainly exaggerated exploits of a legendary Sumerian king who reputedly built one of the world’s first walled cities, Uruk.

We get our introduction to the epic via a solo recitation by a woman named Siduri (Audrey Schultz), who provides some background and lays out a few colored wooden blocks on the floor to symbolize Uruk’s walls. That’s the limit of the set — the remainder of it is all in the minds of the audience. Schultz’s seven castmates, and Turkish musician Yagmur Ali Coskun, go to extraordinary and mostly successful lengths to convey the rest of it — a whopper of a tale in which can be seen the basics of almost every social practice (the divine right of kings, anyone?) and every adventure story ever conceived, whether realistic or supernatural.

The search for eternal youth, the desire for immortality and battles in the heavens, on Earth and in the netherworld are all there. So are powerful combatants, seductive goddesses, seemingly insurmountable obstacles, magical talking animals, a wild man raised in the wilderness but who still speaks with intelligence and an ark that survives a great flood. The fundamentals of Western literature are all contained in the epic.

The imposing Eliot Hall, who grew up in West Marin, stars as the eponymous Gilgamesh, the unquestioned ruler of Uruk. He’s powerful but aware of his mortality. Into his midst comes the wild man Enkidu (Jamin Jollo), a challenger who fights Gilgamesh to a draw, earning his opponent’s respect and friendship. Fight choreography by Richard Pallaziol is quite convincing. Jollo puts his lean muscularity and athleticism on full display in the protracted tussle, one that converts common tools such as rakes and paint rollers into swords and clubs. The use of ordinary industrial objects as props is wonderfully inventive — paint buckets become springs of fresh water, seats or drums; tape measures become fences and barriers of various kinds.

Pallaziol also has multiple roles to fill, including a playful part as the “scorpion husband” whose six legs and segmented body consist of himself and two castmates. June Alane Reif is his equal as the “scorpion wife” whose deadly claws are barbecue tongs. Reif is also superb as the man-admiring goddess Ishtar. The entire cast, including relative newcomers and veteran performers, is exemplary in their commitment to delivering the epic with maximum impact, with minimal support from lights, sound or set pieces.

Among the most impressive characteristics of actors is their ability to pretend, to be other people or other creatures. All children have this capacity, but most of us begin to lose it in puberty. And that’s a shame, because make-believe is one of the most redeeming parts of being human.

“The Epic of Gilgamesh” is a clinic in how far actors can go to make stories come to life. It’s also, in a substantial way, a return to the most basic form of storytelling, like sitting around a tribal campfire after a successful hunt or harvest and relishing your culture’s most enduring tale.

Barry Willis is a member of the American Theatre Critics Association and president of the San Francisco Theatre Critics Circle. Contact him at barry.m.willis@gmail.com.