Sarah Ruhl’s new play at the Jermyn Street Theatre is a real treat on so many levels. I was a bit sceptical in advance because the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice is so familiar – a staple of plays, operas and even – now – musicals. So I wondered what more could be added? What we have here is a delightful mixture of lyrical and musical speech, a large dash of theatre of the absurd, and an exceptional palette of sound and light as is so often the case in this little jewel of a theatre. And above all, the action is mostly seen from the perspective of Eurydice herself – here a real character in her own right rather than a pallid shade reacting to the initiatives of others.
In this telling Eurydice is a curious, energetic, spontaneous figure, with an eager devotion to her husband Orpheus and to her deceased father whom we first meet as a mournful figure in the Underworld trying to get a letter through to his daughter. Orpheus is rather more focused on his music than on his bride, and this opens the path for the Lord of the Underworld to entice Eurydice away from her wedding with the lure of a letter from her father. Once in the Underworld she does indeed meet up once more with her father, with whom she develops a number of touching exchanges, and she also encounters three ‘Stones’, three literal-minded kill-joys who seem to have strayed from a play by Beckett or Ionescu. Thereafter the plotting follows the more familiar lines of Orpheus journeying to rescue her, but with plenty of fresh twists along the way, all couched in an elevated poetic language that borders on ‘magic realism.’
The acting does justice to the varied stylistic demands of the text. Eve Ponsonby captures Eurydice’s zest for life and determination not to be defeated, while also encompassing her emotional generosity and over-abundance of trust. As Orpheus, Keaton Guimaraes-Tolley embodies the other worldy goofiness of the character, while not compromising on his centred love for his wife. As her father, Dickon Tyrrell commands sympathy in his isolation in the Underworld and connects powerfully with Ponsonby when they are reunited. Joe Wiltshire Smith is more spoilt brat, or a variant of Tweedledum from Alice in Wonderland than mighty Pluto; but his depiction of quirky, brittle, self-centred authoritarianism is hardly a novelty these days. Kate Brittain, Tom Morley, and Leyon Stolz-Hunter form a delightfully deadpan trio of ‘Stones’, depressed and lugubrious to a comic degree.
The set designs at Jermyn Street are so often a model of less is more. When space is so restricted you have be rigorous and economical, and that is certainly the case here. Tina Torbey has created a split stage simply with two benches and a gap in between. A piece of string is used to create a room; pebbles suggest a beach and miniature pool of water is used for key rites of passage and forgetting. Much of the rest of the atmospheric work is done through the lighting and sound designs both of which are rich but pointed – a beach scene between Orpheus and Eurydice is saturated with lush, warm Mediterranean colour, whereas the Underworld offers a sterile and chilly set of blues.
This brief but compelling show offers us many intriguing perspectives on death to ponder, and some very subtle variations on a myth that seemed to have become stale and over-familiar. It deserves to be seen and produced for further audiences too.
Writer: Sarah Ruhl
Director: Stella Powell-Jones
Cast: Kate Brittain, Keaton Guimaraes-Tolley, Tom Morley, Eve Ponsonby, Leyon Stolz-Hunter, Dickon Tyrrell, Joe Wiltshire Smith
Until: 9 November 2024
90 mins, no interval
Photo Credit: Alex Brenner