eva noblezada

Singer-songwriter Anaïs Mitchell first wrote the numbers for “Hadestown,” a folk musical based on Greek mythology, in 2006. Twenty years later, the Tony-winning smash musical comes to the big screen in a version filmed on the West End in 2025, directed by Brett Sullivan. The production reunites the original Broadway cast — André De Shields, Patrick Page, Reeve Carney, Eva Noblezada and Amber Gray — six years after the show debuted and swept the Tonys in 2019.

There is a timelessness to Mitchell’s work, thanks in large part to the ancient source material, the myths of Orpheus, Eurydice, Hades and Persephone. Developed in partnership with Rachel Chavkin, who directed the Broadway show, the action is set around the 1930s in the American Deep South. The story expresses evergreen themes of love, sacrifice, oppression, addiction and devotion, juxtaposing the tragedy of the way things are against a hope of the way they could be.

There are moments when Mitchell’s songs feel eerily prescient: The show’s villain, Hades (Page), rules the underworld of Hadestown as a fascistic industrialist; his Act I closing number is titled “Why We Build the Wall.” Factory workers sing back to him, “We build the wall to keep us free,” a chorus that foretells the Trumpian rhetoric of 2016 and a reminder that these patterns of division and otherization are the eternal tools of the oppressor.

“Hadestown” is a love story first and foremost, set in a joyous juke joint, the band ringing the stage. The camera follows our narrator, Hermes, played by American theater legend De Shields, as he takes the stage, kissing the heads of his company.

But the show doesn’t start until the 79-year-old De Shields nattily flips his jacket open, to the approving roar of the audience. He introduces doomed Orpheus (Carney), “touched by the Gods themselves,” a born yearner with a gift for song. When Eurydice (Noblezada), a scrappy, skeptical slip of a girl, rolls into town, Orpheus instantly falls head over heels. They have nothing except each other, their love symbolized by a red flower that Orpheus offers.

Party girl Persephone (Gray) brings the summer fun, but her jealous lover Hades wants to keep her all to himself in his domain, trapping the world in a long winter. Orpheus promises to write a song to summon spring again, but a struggling Eurydice is seduced by Hades’ promises of security in Hadestown, and she descends with him, signing her life away to work in his factory. Orpheus tries to rescue his love, but his faith in her is tested on their return to the top — if he turns back to see if she’s there, she’ll be banished to Hadestown forever.

Real-life couple Carney and Noblezada married several months after this production; they met at Noblezada’s audition. Their chemistry makes the emotional devastation of this tragedy that much more real: Every main actor sheds a real tear over the course of the show. Carney’s unique tenor ranges from Jeff Buckley to Freddie Mercury; his rock background and skill with the guitar is required for Orpheus’ lyre-playing and lends to the folk roots of Mitchell’s songs.

Cinematographer Clayton Jacobsen captures unexpected camera angles that a theatergoer wouldn’t get (even one with decent seats), both from down below in the circular pit and above it. He sends the camera soaring over the heads of the audience into intimate medium shots. Sullivan makes the animated and often rowdy crowd an integral part of the cinematic experience, including an extended curtain call with De Shields toasting the audience, sending them out with the warmth with which he brought them in.

There is such a temporal quality to theater, a shared moment in time and space. This production feels like a fleeting moment — a reunion of friends and collaborators retelling a myth that is recounted over and over again. “It’s a sad song, but we sing it anyway,” Hermes reminds us, and it’s a sentiment worth repeating. There may be tragedy, but the summer will inevitably return.