A compelling Greek tragedy adaptation, though its promising performers deserved stronger material.
Gutter Theatre’s Eurydice at Assembly Roxy is an ambitious retelling of Sarah Ruhl’s modern take on the Greek myth. For anyone unfamiliar, the story follows Eurydice, who dies on her wedding day and enters the underworld, where she meets her father and tries to remember who she was in life. Meanwhile, her husband Orpheus attempts to rescue her, but the rules of the dead are strict, and the underworld’s strange logic keeps pulling her away from him. It’s a tale about memory, love and the difficulty of holding onto someone who is already slipping away.
This production leans heavily on atmosphere, and the soundscapes are one of its strongest elements. When they’re used, they create an eerie, unsettling underworld that feels alive and listening. I only wished they had been used more often, especially in scenes that needed a slow build of tension. The long sequence where Eurydice’s father constructs her shelter is clever in its staging, but without the sound design supporting it, the moment loses momentum and becomes a little too drawn out.
The Three Stones are excellent in the portrayal of the “keepers” of the underworld. Their languid, sprawling presence across the stage gives the sense of ancient beings who have seen everything and are thoroughly unimpressed by all of it. They’re both comedic relief and a chilling reminder that the dead must follow the rules, and they uphold those rules with acerbic delight. Their physicality is sharp, funny and strangely moving, and they provide a constant backdrop to Eurydice’s attempts to remember who she was before she crossed the threshold.
Orpheus is the standout performance. The actor walks a fine line between obsessive devotion and genuine tenderness, and it’s compelling to watch. In one moment he’s unhinged in his desperation for Eurydice, and in the next he’s soft, gentle, almost painfully earnest. It left me wondering whether this level of devotion is something to crave or something to fear. He carries the emotional weight of the production with real skill, and his scenes are consistently engaging.
Eurydice herself is played with a childlike innocence that doesn’t always land. Her naivety is clear, but paired with such a strong Orpheus, it sometimes tips into making her seem a little clueless rather than sheltered. In early disagreements, it almost feels as though Orpheus is picking on her, which I don’t think is the intended dynamic. Her doe‑like trust in her father also feels unbalanced, especially given how their relationship is written.
Her father’s performance is gentler than some of the script allows. His monologues are delivered with sincerity, and there’s a clear attempt to show a man trying to reconnect with his daughter after a lifetime of missed chances. The difficulty is that the writing doesn’t always support him. The script repeatedly references his American roots, yet he speaks with an English accent, which makes lines about cowboy boots and dude ranches feel oddly out of place. It’s not the actor’s fault; it’s simply a mismatch between text and delivery that becomes distracting.
And then there are the potatoes. More than once, the script drops in references to potatoes that seem to come from nowhere. I checked: there is no meaningful potato symbolism in Greek mythology. Potatoes aren’t native to ancient Greece, and they don’t appear in classical myth. So you didn’t miss anything. These moments, along with other unusual choices, interrupt the flow of the monologues. They land flat not because of the performers, but because the writing keeps veering away from emotional clarity just as it’s about to reach it. The script aims for beauty and introspection, but its rhythm is continually broken by baffling detours.
The staging is simple but effective. The glass doors at the back of the stage create a watery, liminal barrier between worlds, and the use of all exits gives the space a sense of permeability. I found myself wondering whether Hades could have used the aisle steps more often, descending and ascending like a ruler of the underworld moving between realms. Perhaps lighting constraints made this impractical, but the idea is there.
Hades himself is compelling. There’s a beguiling charm to him, but every time he enters, something feels wrong in the air. It’s a good performance, unsettling in the right ways.
There is plenty here to praise. The cast work hard, the atmosphere is strong, and several performances shine but the script simply doesn’t always support the actors or the emotional beats it’s trying to hit.
An interesting and ultimately compelling adaptation for those fond of a Greek tragedy, but I wish the book had lived up to the promise the performers clearly hold.
This show ran at the Assembly Roxy. This show has now ended.