Hadestown

 "Hadestown" succeeds because of its ending. Writers struggle with endings. If you see the crazy new film "Verity," you'll notice that it doesn't even have a conclusion! It's as if the storyteller just tossed her pen out the window and shrugged.

But "Hadestown" has a surprising, effective, layered finale. We revisit lines from the first ten minutes of the show. Once again, we're told that Orpheus can see how the world *could* be -- "in spite of the way that it is." The sentence has acquired a new punchiness, because we've just seen "the way that it is." People die, people lose faith. That's the way the world is.

"It's a sad song -- but we're gonna sing it again." Often, and particularly on Broadway, producers feel a need to pander -- an ending needs to be "happy" if it's going to be palatable. By contrast, Hermes looks directly at the audience and names what has happened in *his* show. "This is a Broadway musical, and I just told you a brutally sad story."

When we first meet Eurydice, she is asking for a match -- literally, a stick of fire, but also a romantic/intellectual match. (She is clearly alluding to "Rent," if not *also* to Todd Haynes's "Carol." Would you light my candle?) We again see this scene at the end of the show, but the hopefulness and guardedness in Eurydice's voice can now seem devastating. We all try to live in a state of hopefulness (despite *knowing* that life ends).

It's a love song -- it's a sad song. We hear the notes through Hermes -- through Eurydice -- through Persephone. Battered father figure, feisty young person, rueful and reflective spouse. We couldn't fully appreciate the different, distinctive voices at the start of the show -- but now, at the end of the show, we can.

When I saw this on Broadway, the star was Daniel Breaker, and my secret is that I prefer him to Andre De Shields. Breaker is that impressive.