The Road Back to Hadestown
Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in
Every night at the theatre is unique, something will be slightly different from one night to the next and when plays get revived by a different director that same text can be transformed into something completely new. For a successful play, its longevity relies on constant reinvention and reimagining – it’s Hamlet, but not as you know it! And for a modern musical, immortality lies in finding a final form and surviving a constant flow of new cast members as the show long outlives any one performer.
On Sunday afternoon, I saw Hadestown for only the second time, and I’ve never experienced anything quite like it. To explain why, we’re going to have to go back a few years…
Hadestown has been in some form of gestation since 2006 and, along the way, has been a concept album and gone through numerous theatre workshops in Vermont, New York, and Edmonton. In my mind, Hadestown reached its final form when it was staged by the National Theatre in London towards the end of 2018. It gives me a sense of pride to think that it was UK taxpayers who subsidised Hadestown finalising its staging, securing its most iconic cast, and generally cementing itself into the official Hadestownâ„¢ package.
As part of this story, I need to dispel two myths I tell (myself) about myself. The first is that I don’t like musicals (Fun Home, Operation Mincemeat, and Caroline, or Change would beg to differ) because clearly I do. And the second is that I saw Hadestown when it was in previews at the National Theatre. Checking my diary before writing this piece, I realised that while I saw Hadestown in its first few weeks, I wasn’t quite as ahead of the curve as I liked to imagine. That delusion aside, the vivid memories of that night still ring true.
Tuesday, 20 November 2018 – I wasn’t sure what the show was about but was in my first year of seeing as much theatre as I could, so had bought a cheap ticket out of curiosity. Hadestown was on the Olivier stage at the National – a giant 1,100-seat amphitheatre facing a central circular stage. The cheap seats here are armrest-free and right at the front. My view was slightly obscured by the stage itself, a speaker was directly in front of my face, and when the dry ice started, I was buried in the fog. Immersive theatre by accident.
I was completely swept away. Hadestown retells the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice via a New Orleans speakeasy. The songs are soulful, and both deeply romantic and surprisingly political. While the story is narrated by Hermes, the plot largely plays out through suggestion and metaphor rather than dramatic set changes. As much as Hadestown is a musical, it is a piece of storytelling; a fable, a myth.
As you do after any good night at the theatre, I dutifully Googled the cast and followed those I could on Instagram. From there, I could watch as they completed their run at the National Theatre and transferred directly to Broadway. What followed, was the highs of 14 Tony nominations, 8 wins, and a Grammy for good measure – and the lows of the show having to close during the pandemic. Somehow, Hadestown survived and did reopen with that same original cast, who then slowly drifted away from the show over the next few years.
At this point, Hadestown has officially become part of the modern musical canon. This finalised version of the show is running on Broadway, has toured North America, has been replicated in South Korea and Australia, and is opening in Amsterdam this June. In February 2024, over five years since it left the South Bank, Hadestown opened at the Lyric Theatre in the West End.
I was not interested. Much as I loved seeing the show back in 2018, the idea of seeing the same production with a different cast did not appeal. My version of the show was set, and the idea of seeing some other actors wearing the same costumes, walking the same sets, and singing the same songs felt like a betrayal of some kind.
Cue a press release late last year. The original cast were reuniting for four weeks to perform in the West End. It was later revealed that this was essentially a prolonged dress rehearsal before filming the final three shows of their run. These dates sold out almost immediately as the European fanbase that had amassed over the last six years mobilised. As I often do in this sort of situation, I kept the booking tab open on my phone and idly refreshed it from time to time. This totally normal behaviour paid off in early February when a handful of seats suddenly appeared, and I made an impulse purchase.
This is how I ended up at the Lyric Theatre on Sunday afternoon, nestled in the stalls and waiting to watch not just Hadestown but my Hadestown. When the cast took the stage, it wasn’t to the polite bemusement of an unsuspecting National Theatre audience; it was to the loud and loving cheers of a theatre full of fans. While the cast looked as they did in my memories, the show as a whole moved with an extra swagger as it embodied the past six years of accolades and international success. They returned to London as conquering heroes affording one last victory lap.
The show is moving enough on its own, but with the weight of how far this cast had gone with this show, I was on an emotional knife-edge from the opening bars. I felt a surge of pride seeing the hints of the National Theatre still in the show; the Olivier’s iconic drum revolve was faithfully replicated along with the entirety of the London set. It was ASMR tingles throughout and an easy standing ovation at the end.
As I said at the start, every night at the theatre is unique. In this case, I had only returned for another dose because the conditions were kept as close to my original experience as possible. What changed in the intervening years wasn’t anything about the show’s mechanics; instead it was the history that this particular production, with these particular performers, carried with it. The content may have been mostly the same but the context was completely different. This show has baggage.
Once this short run is over, the cast will disperse once again; this was the final encore and there are other shows, on other stages, in other countries waiting for them.
No doubt I’ll see whatever release the filmed version gets, but perhaps it’s time for me to let go and give the incoming West End cast a chance too?
I am really loving reading all your personal connections with the shows you're writing about.