Theater Review: Nine things to love about a gritty, gorgeous “Hadestown”

BY HEATHER PARISH

Some shows invite analysis. “Hadestown” mostly made me want to lean over at intermission and say, “Okay, but can we talk about that trombone?” Broadway in Fresno’s stop at the William Saroyan Theatre on April 7 delivered a moody, gritty, often gorgeous night of theater. 

Anaïs Mitchell’s folk-opera retelling of the ancient myths of Orpheus and Eurydice and Hades and Persephone has become one of those rare modern musicals that inspires both fervent devotion and high expectations. So rather than pretend I came away with a neat thesis and a pocketful of underworld metaphors, here are nine (as in circles of hell!) things I loved about this production, directed by Keenan Tyler Oliphant and based on the tour concept by original director Rachel Chavkin. 

Things I loved (in no particular order):

Resplendently downmarket design—placing the setting in a Depression-era New Orleans-inspired locale gives the mythical world a resonant feel. Life is hard here but can also be achingly beautiful. (Scenic design: David L. Arsenault. Lighting design: Aja Jackson.)

The Fates—watching Gia Keddy, Miriam Navarrete, and Jayna Wescoatt work together as a unit was a continual delight. They manage to make the Fates a cohesive unit while still drawing distinctions between the three personalities. And their vocal harmonizing was otherworldly (no pun intended!). 

Hades’ baso profondo—Nickolaus Colón spends the first 30 minutes onstage sitting at an upstage bistro table while the inciting action unfolds. His looming presence is palpable but still doesn’t prepare one for the deep resonance of his first three syllables uttered, “I missed you.” His performance only gets better from there. (Insert the usual complaint about muddy sound at the Saroyan here.) In the time-honored tradition of making the villain the more compelling character, Colón builds Hades steadily, culminating in “His Kiss, The Riot.”

Persephone’s pulchritude—working as an opposing force to Colón’s Hades, Namis Mdlalos Bizana is a generous, life-loving Queen of the Underworld with a big personality and a bigger voice as hot as a summer sun. 

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The Orchestra—Have I mentioned the trombone? Haik Demirchian’s prowess dominates the party atmosphere in the first act, but the entire onstage orchestra has their moments of making the music part of the action. Arman Wali Mohammad pulls double duty as the music director and pianist, pushing the music into a leading role in such numbers as “Way Down Hadestown” and “Livin’ It Up on Top.”

Eurydice’s earthy complexity—Hawa Kamara’s performance is anything but abstract. She looks like she’s negotiating a harsh environment at all times. Constantly bracing against an impending storm and looking around corners for the next danger—and the next source of safety— Kamara is at her best in the difficult moments like “All I’ve Ever Known,” “Flowers,” and “Gone, I’m Gone.” It is a crackling, difficult, embodied performance. 

Hermes shining like Charon’s coins—From the moment he lights up the stage, Rudy Foster is an incandescent Hermes. He has a bright smile, a glittering suit and shiny, shiny shoes. What’s not to love? Add a suave style and a voice full of fireworks guiding the action from “Road to Hell” through every Epic number, and he’s worth every bit of precious metal it costs for the trip. 

Orpheus’ debut—If Eurydice is earth, Orpheus is air. Played with a slightly untethered looseness, Bryan Chan’s fragile, etherial tenor sets him apart from the more pragmatic matters of the rest of the world. Eurydice’s emotional immediacy moves Orpheus as an artist, but he remains blind to her immediate needs. Chan’s youthfulness offers an earnest vulnerability in the role with a touch of the mythic determination the character is known for, particularly in his Underworld journey. (Note: Chan is an understudy who performed the role for the first time this evening.)

The Worker’s movement—Original choreographer David Neumann and tour choreographer T. Oliver Reid embed the workers’ (literal) movement as a foundational part of the world, not just as a spectacle within it. The Workers Chorus doesn’t just represent “the system”; they ARE the system. The emphasis on mechanical repetition, unison and conformity in big, centerpiece numbers like “Why We Build the Wall” contrasts with the “just getting by” liveliness of “Livin’ It Up On Top.” Nevertheless like the Fates, the chorus works as a unit but still manages to show some fragile individuality in key moments. 

Evan Zimmerman

2026 Hadestown National Tour.

So no, I didn’t leave “Hadestown” with a tidy 800-word thesis about fate, labor, nature, power, or love. What I did walk out with was a lingering mood, a few images I can’t quite shake, and, yes, still thinking about that trombone.

This is a production that understands its strengths: atmosphere, musicality, and a company that commits fully to the world they’re building. When it works, it’s transporting. But it’s not without its rough edges. The repetition in the book and lyrics, while clearly intentional, sometimes crosses the line from thematic to indulgent and occasionally lingers a beat too long. That same sense of overstaying shows up at the end of act one, which seems to find its perfect button at “When the Chips Are Down” and then keeps going for another three songs. Still, when “Why We Build the Wall” finally lands, it lands with such force that you forgive the scenic route it took to get there.

“Hadestown” is a show about cycles, about going back, about trying again, even when you know how it ends. Sometimes that deepens the experience. Sometimes it just adds time.

Either way, this Fresno stop proves why audiences keep coming back. Not because the story changes, but because something in the telling still resonates. 

“Hadestown” has one more performance tonight at 7:30 p.m. at the Saroyan Theater in Fresno.

8/9/26- This article was updated to reflect that Bryan Chan is the understudy for the role of Orpheus.