I attended Hadestown on Broadway in the summer of 2023, sitting in the front row of the second-floor balcony, right side. I chose that seat specifically to observe the sunken stage and the full view of the rotating platforms. The proximity provided an intimate perspective on the performers’ expressions and subtle nuances often missed from farther seats. The cast featured Reeve Carney as Orpheus, Eva Noblezada as Eurydice, Malcolm Armwood as Hermes (covering that night), Jewelle Blackman as Persephone, and Tom Hewitt as Hades.

The staging was atmospheric and intricately detailed. The Walter Kerr Theatre’s sunken center entrance allowed characters to emerge both literally and metaphorically from below, enhancing the underworld’s looming presence. The Fates, with deep, resounding harmony, played the accordion and violin — a clever visual metaphor for their control over the rhythm of the narrative and the characters’ destinies. Eurydice’s descent into the underworld was staged using an elevator-like structure, adding verticality and tension. From my seat, I could appreciate the 3D effect, seeing the full depth as she sank and rose — a visual choice that extended and deepened the emotional weight of her journey.

Vocally, the cast delivered with strength and precision. Eva Noblezada’s Eurydice carried a piercing vulnerability. Her voice filled the auditorium with raw energy, and I still remember the electrifying impact of her “drummmming.” Reeve Carney’s Orpheus, though unconventional in timbre, brought a distinctive texture to the role. He often began phrases softly and then pushed into a stronger finish. While perhaps intended for dramatic effect, this phrasing struck me as forced and detracted from the natural flow of the Epic series. I often could not catch the opening syllables, which created an odd imbalance, especially given how firmly he delivered “Wait for Me.”

Malcolm Armwood, stepping in as Hermes, looked youthful and stylish but performed with remarkable poise and rhythmic command. Tom Hewitt’s Hades possessed a rich, resonant bass. However, the reverb applied to his microphone sometimes obscured his diction in the lower registers — likely a sound engineering choice to amplify the godlike quality of his voice. At close range, though, it occasionally blurred the text. Otherwise, his voice — just like the original cast recording — was deep and truly fitting for the ruler of the underworld. Jewelle Blackman’s Persephone brought groove and rhythm with her textured voice. I particularly enjoyed her musicality, even though she appeared a bit stiff during one leg lift, which made me smile. I blamed the liquor she was supposed to be drinking on stage.

The workers’ harmonies were particularly striking. The clever lyrics used plosive endings to emphasize the mood of labor, and the harmonic arrangements were beautiful. This reflected the fundamental truth that strong musical composition is the backbone of any great musical.

One of the most memorable moments came during the chorus’s synchronized movements in “Wait For Me.” The lighting and staging combined to create a surreal, haunting journey into the unknown. As the climactic reversal unfolded, I was struck not only by the tragedy but by the humanity the cast brought to this timeless myth.

Having seen multiple productions, including the Korean licensed version, I appreciated how the Broadway staging preserved narrative clarity while allowing for subtle complexity in performance. Every choice — from blocking to vocal phrasing — contributed to a rich, layered storytelling experience. It was a vivid reminder that even the oldest tales can feel urgent and deeply personal when reimagined with care and creativity.