You couldn’t look back if you tried: SUDS 'Eurydice' Review
A sensory aigís, expect an odyssey of emotion, talent and stagecraft.
Keeping an audience rapt with a story told a thousand times before can be challenging. The dangers of derivativeness are at every bend in the river, one that would be easy to fall into without vision. Yet director Adele Beaumont — with assistant director Emma Johns — pulled it off with style and passion, once again demonstrating her affinity for Greek Theatre. Emotional, fresh and engaging, SUDS’ performance of Sarah Ruhl’s Eurydice makes the Cellar Theatre feel more intimate than the walls already do.
The play retells the Greek myth of Orpheus’s journey to the underworld from Eurydice’s perspective, whisking us through a complex emotional journey of love, grief, memory and forgetting. We Follow Eurydice (Maddie Lewis) as she juggles the fresh grief of her late father, and her perhaps, too-much-too-quickly romance with the naive and excitable musician Orpheus (Dan Prichard). On her wedding night, she is given an ultimatum by A Nasty Interesting Man (Jeremy Jenkins); leave with a stranger and communicate with her father from beyond the grave, or stay with her new husband and never hear from her father again.
A play that leans so heavily on the importance of dialogue demands close attention to detail. These demands are met by Eurydice’s cast elegantly. They excel at capturing the emotional nuance of the script, finding equilibrium between compelling emotional honesty and witty comedic delivery for the entire hour-and-thirty-minute runtime. For much of the show, I had dry eyes, not wanting to miss a thing.
An important theme of the show, intimacy, is embodied naturally on stage. The cast imparts warmness unto the audience. Lewis and Hale (Father of Eurydice) were able to capture the unique distant familiarity of reuniting estranged family members. The romantic intimacy of Lewis and Prichard was warming. It greets us with the preshow, a cute entrée to the emotional stakes to come. Throughout, their romance never feels forced.
Lewis is iridescent onstage. A dynamic performance with a youthful energy. Clever and witty comedic delivery and a captivating emotional depth rips the air from your chest. Another stellar performance, Jenkins, demands attention. I was craning my neck and trying to throw my ears off my head toward them. With a laser focus, surgical control of their body and brilliant dramatic timing, they elevate the theatricality of the show without distracting from its emotional content. Truly villainous in their performance, it is too spellbinding to reel away in distaste, which their dialogue might encourage. The Chorus of Stones (Luke Shepard, Ashna Aravinthan, Cathy Gilbert) are wired to each other. Aware and deliberate, they feel a part of the space. Refreshingly for a chorus, they each feel distinct without upstaging one another: they’re rock solid.
A memorable strong point of the show was the blocking. The physical capabilities of the show’s actors were fully utilised. Beaumont creates a picturesque stage with her actors consistently throughout, the ensemble dances from image to image, their bodies weapons of mass construction. In the third act, be wary of the stairs.
Taking place on Earth and in the Underworld, the show's stagecraft transports you. Woolly and lacey textures in the set (Hudson, Hennessy and Whalland) and on the costumes (Ma, Mcwhinney, and Cardis) encourage you to settle into your seat but Nikki Eghlimi’s lighting design is a fantastic place maker, transporting you between earth and the underworld without dragging you down. Stonor, Lung and Broadbent’s Makeup design is creative and expressive. Orpheus’s Second Act and The Stones’ makeup was a highlight.
A lerna however, was the soundscape. I couldn’t help but feel like it was less developed than the rest of the stagecraft. It was certainly considered, Sophia Tudman and Shea Berecry's selection of atmospherics focused on the strong placemaking of lighting design while providing its distinctive sonic texture. Ziv Pinco’s music was discreetly woven in which allowed both aspects of the soundscape to be memorable. These tracks, however, varied in their dynamics and would sometimes cut in and out, occasionally distracting from the onstage action, especially in moments of silence. The cast also tended to shout during important emotional moments or periods of high tension, despite giving us plenty already in their performance. This puzzled me especially because their delivery was clear, audible and compelling otherwise.
Eurydice is powerful with a strong sense of identity. It captured my senses and my heart despite my nitpicks. An emotionally sincere performance that demonstrates why theatre is an inspired craft. Expect strong performances, distinct style and an emotional odyssey. If you need reminding why the classics stick around, grab your tickets and don’t look back.
Eurydice plays at the Cellar Theatre until September 2nd. Get tickets here.