Hadestown - 2026 - Review

★★★★☆

With Hadestown approaching its second anniversary at the Lyric Theatre in London’s West End, the question is this: has this contemporary musical cemented itself as a cult favourite that audiences return to time and time again, or is it still trying to court new fans beyond the devotees of its Grammy-winning score? From the moment the house lights dim and the first chords pulse through the auditorium, it’s clear that Hadestown isn’t content to be a static retelling of the Orpheus and Eurydice myth; it wants to be a ritual, one that energises as much as it enchants.

Hadestown is a reimagining of two intertwined Greek myths: young Orpheus, a poet and musician, falls for the practical and determined Eurydice, only for their love to be tested when she’s drawn down to the industrial underworld of Hadestown in search of food and shelter. Driven by devotion, Orpheus embarks on a perilous quest to rescue her, guided by the charismatic messenger Hermes and shadowed by the ruler of the underworld, Hades. Alongside this central strand lies the cyclical tension between Hades and his estranged wife Persephone, a dynamic that shapes the seasons themselves and gives the musical its mythic rhythm.

Dylan Wood as Orpheus. Photo Credit: Brinkhoof Moegenburg

One of the most striking aspects of this production is the musical innovation. Anaïs Mitchell’s score is an eclectic blend of folk, jazz, blues, and gospel that feels as alive now as when the show premiered. Numbers like “Way Down Hadestown” and “Why We Build the Wall” carry a visceral intensity that’s both political and profoundly human, while “Wait for Me” remains one of the musical’s most breathtaking moments, its lighting and choreography combining to create an almost tangible crack in the world for Orpheus to crawl through.

In this current West End company, Dylan Wood’s Orpheus offers a nuanced blend of dreamer and doer. While not as wide-eyed as some predecessors, his portrayal adds greater charm, contrasting with the production’s gritty aesthetic. Desmonda Cathabel’s Eurydice is gorgeously realised: she’s not merely the hunted lover, but a fully realised spirit whose determination and caution feel deeply authentic. The chemistry between Wood and Cathabel gives their duets a tender charge that elevates the emotional stakes.

Chris Jarman’s Hades is imposing, a ruler with industrial might but nuanced cruelties, though some of the lower notes did feel out of his register. Joy Wielkens captures Persephone’s dualities, her luminous joy and her melancholic withdrawal, with an ease that highlights one of the show’s subtle but honest emotional arcs. Equally compelling is Daniel Breaker’s Hermes, whose narration is so on the nose, but sung with such musicality that you barely notice. Breaker’s voice is something I wasn’t expecting. What a sensation! The Fates, Melanie Bright, Allie Daniel, and Lauran Rae, act not just as a chorus but as the ever-present conscience of Hadestown; their harmonies and stagecraft are polished.

Dylan Wood as Orpheus, surrounded by Workers. Photo Credit: Brinkhoff Moegenburg

Director Rachel Chavkin and the creative team incorporate a stage that feels at once sprawling and intimate, embracing the Lyric Theatre’s architectural form while constructing an underworld that feels both tangible and metaphorical.  However, the decision to sell balcony seats at the Lyric Theatre feels difficult to justify. There were several moments where characters moving downstage or ascending the stairs to Hades’ office vanished entirely from view. During one of Hades’ musical numbers, the sightline was reduced to little more than his feet, which suggests the staging isn’t always well suited to that part of the auditorium. Whilst this isn’t a fault with the performance, it is a fault with the production. Discreet screens (like those used in Comedy About Spies) for the upper levels could greatly improve the experience for those audiences.

Hadestown isn’t without its issues. The show’s musical style is mostly sung rather than spoken, which can be difficult to follow at times, especially in the first half when narrative exposition is so heavy. For the uninitiated, this can create a murky plot direction (My partner thought Hades was taking Eurydice to his office for more than contract signing!). Similarly, the pacing sometimes lingers in atmospheric space when sharper narrative propulsion might help sustain tension. The result isn’t a failure, but an alternative way of doing things. 

But if Hadestown has a core strength, it’s that it doesn’t simply show you a myth; it makes you feel it. The emotional intensity in moments like Orpheus’s impulse to look back at Eurydice or Persephone’s bittersweet refrain about the changing seasons is undeniable. Even for those familiar with the story’s tragic conclusion, as Hermes reminds us early on, “it’s a sad song, it’s a tragedy”, the journey there remains compelling and cathartic.

Allie Daniel, Melanie Bright, and Lauran Rae in Hadestown. Photo Credit: Brinkhoff Moegenburg.

The songs weave together with such seamlessness, making the show feel polished and deliberate; it is better appreciated as a complete soundscape than a catalogue of stand-alone numbers. Yet, even with this, you still find yourself humming away to Orpheus’ song or singing “Wait For Me” the whole tube ride home. 

Ultimately, Hadestown delivers a theatrical experience that is as immersive as it is affecting. It invites you into a myth reimagined, one that feels ancient and immediate all at once, and it showcases some of the most exciting musical theatre work on the West End stage today. With a cast that breathes life into every note and a production design that expands the possibilities of modern musical storytelling, this is a show that’s as rewarding to revisit as it is to discover for the first time. 

If you’re curious about musical theatre that dares to blend heart, imagination, and spectacle, Hadestown is absolutely worth stepping into the underworld for, and emerging with tension and wonder still thrumming in your chest.