Hadestown – Lyric Theatre

Bethany Antonia and Marley Fenton in Hadestown at the Lyric Theatre, London. Picture: Brinkhoff-Moegenburg

Hadestown continues at the Lyric Theatre, London.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Despite the enormous influence Hadestown has had on me over the years (it made me fall in love with both musical theatre and ancient mythology, somehow resulting in my writing a show about a man punished by the gods to push a boulder up a hill for eternity: Sisyphus: A Rock ‘n’ Roll Musical) and despite the innumerable times I have heard these songs, the live show seems to get better every time I see it. If it’s true that all art is aiming to connect us to our shared humanity, Hadestown might understand its own mission better than most, and consequently get closer than many musicals ever have.

The show’s journey from snippets performed in rooms above pubs to DIY productions to Off-Broadway to the National Theatre to Broadway and back to the West End has seen many clever tweaks, and even now the show is ‘locked’, each new cast promises an exciting surprise. Director Rachel Chavkin allows incoming performers to bring some of their own personality to their roles, and this new round of casting has brought us one of the best groups yet.

The central protagonists of Orpheus and Eurydice are now played by Marley Fenton and Bethany Antonia. Both bring a youthful energy to their characters. Fenton’s Orpheus has a winning softness: you fully believe him as the awkward young man nervous to find his own way in the world. His instant and deep desire to be with Eurydice is even more understandable when we feel he might be truly lost on his own. As he continues his evolution, his standing up to the forces of the underworld gains gravity given how far he has come and the twinkle of fear still in his eye.

Fenton also has a fantastic voice, with pure falsetto lines filling the Lyric Theatre. When he fears he has lost his love, there is no more heart-breaking display of grief in the West End.

Antonia’s Eurydice enters spiky, bristling at any suggestion of touch after a hard life surviving the environmental catastrophe of Hadestown’s post-apocalyptic hellscape. As her character learns to love and find safety in Orpheus but is broken into submission to the greater security of Hades, Antonia maintains traces of the enormous energy she brings from her first scene. This is a Eurydice of tasteful character choices over pure vocal pyrotechnics, but Antonia’s singing is glorious throughout.

Rachel Adedeji as Persephone delivers enough vocal fireworks for the whole cast, but again, keeps it well within the realms of her character. In terms of her marriage to Hades, Adedeji’s Persephone is the most ‘over it’ Persephone I have seen. She exudes depression at how her life has turned out but rediscovers her passion as she stands up to Hades in Act II.

Alastair Parker’s East End gangster take on the King of the Underworld is a work of brilliance. What seems like an impenetrably tough front of masculinity and subterranean bass vocals is broken down to devastating tears as Orpheus sings his ‘Epic’ and reminds Hades of the love he has let slip away.

Clive Rowe brings a winning goofiness to Hermes, a character direction little-explored by previous performers, and which the actor makes feel completely natural. His vocal choices fluctuate between ‘Rock Island’ talk-singing to stratospheric vocal riffs that soar with clarity and power.

A masterful actor, Rowe nails the difficult tonal balance as the play moves from its potential tragic climax to its hopeful coda. To take an audience from tears of tragedy to tears of joy in a matter of minutes is a theatrical miracle, but between Anaïs Mitchell’s superlative writing, Chavkin’s perfectly judged direction and the excellent new character interpretations of this new cast, it will be a nightly occurrence at the Lyric Theatre.

As I was getting my loyalty card stamped at the merch stall after the show, I thought about what could keep drawing audiences back to this show. Many musicals attract a lot of customers, but few attract repeat attendees as dedicated as Hadestown’s fanbase. Beyond the great songs and stagecraft, there is something deeper at work in this ancient myth. It speaks to what connects all of us as we journey through good and bad: we all must learn to survive. As hard as life sometimes might feel, life is also the source of all happiness and light.

In one of the show’s most iconic and Tik-Tok’ed moments, Eurydice sings to an Orpheus sick with grief and fear and fighting against nature to bring his love back to the world of the living – “Wait for me, I’m coming with you.” When we lose people we love, though the pain is immense, those people do stay with us. Whether you believe in a religious afterlife or a universal consciousness or nothing at all, all we must do to be reunited with them, to get to wherever they are, is wait.

We can’t be certain what happens after we are gone, but we can be sure life will be full of difficulty and death is inevitable. Sometimes, these being our only certainties can feel overwhelming. In his essay ‘The Myth of Sisyphus’, philosopher Albert Camus asserted that despite Sisyphus’ absurd hardship of rolling the boulder: “The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

Stubbornly, we will find happiness even in the brutality of our lives. Through that joyful rebellion, all wonder, all human brilliance is possible. We know it’s a sad song, a tragedy, but we sing it anyway. We sing it again and again. For every cold winter, there will be a life-affirming spring.

With a fantastic new cast singing the same sad song as if it might just turn out okay this time, Hadestown remains the most transcendently beautiful piece of theatre in the West End. If it has been a while since you have seen the show, you owe it to your soul to make that repeat trip way down under the ground.

Ian Bowkett