#black casting

I don’t think I’m the easiest audience for musicals. I grew up listening to South Asian music, and to me, it almost always sounds richer, more textured than typical Broadway or West End styles. And with Western music in general, I usually need time (multiple listens) before it really clicks. So I walked into this with excitement, but also a bit of fear.

And yet… something worked immediately for me ! The gospel, jazz, and folk influences in the production created an atmosphere that felt alive and immersive. There was something raw and grounded about the music that made it easier for me to connect, even without that usual “familiarity” I tend to need.

Also, I come from a theatre background in Belgium, so I’m used to more text-based, interpretive performances. And I think that’s why Hadestown really spoke to me, not just as a musical, but as a piece of political storytelling.

What struck me the most is how the myth is used to critique capitalism. Hadestown is a world where industrialization, forced labor, and obedience are normalized — even glorified. People stop questioning, stop feeling, stop imagining. And in contrast, everything Persephone represents (spring, joy, nature, movement) is slowly erased. It’s not surprising that she ends up deeply unhappy. She feels like the embodiment of a world that is being suffocated.

I also really loved the contrast between Eurydice and Orpheus. Eurydice is grounded in material needs : survival, food, safety. Orpheus is a dreamer, almost disconnected from reality at times. Their love feels unexpected but also, opposite attracts.

The London casting added another layer that I found incredibly powerful. As of March 2026, the cast featured Marley Fenton as Orpheus, Bethany Antonia as Eurydice, Rachel Adedeji as Persephone, Alastair Parker as Hades, and Clive Rowe as Hermes, with the Fates played by Spike Maxwell, Melanie Bright, and Lauran Rae.

In the version I saw, most of the characters were Black, except Hades, who was played by a white actor. I don’t know if this was an intentional political choice, but visually, it created a striking dynamic. A system of labor and control embodied by racialized bodies, with power concentrated in a white figure. It added a whole new reading of the story, tying capitalism and racial structures together.

And Orpheus turning back… To me, it felt like something very intimate: self-doubt, fragile mental health, the inability to fully trust that you’re safe, that the person you love will be there, that things can actually work out. It’s that moment where fear wins over hope.

The ending's message that the story repeats itself again and again felt like a kind of infernal cycle. Domething that’s very hard to escape. It made me think of capitalism not just as a system, but as something we keep reproducing, even when we know it’s hurting us.