Month: October 2026

Eurydice

01/10/26

Assembly Roxy (Upstairs), Edinburgh

Sarah Ruhl’s 2003 play reimagines Virgil’s Orpheus and Eurydice, centring the latter and relegating her lover to a supporting role. But this feminist retelling is a paradoxical one. Sure, the story is told from the heroine’s point of view; however, I don’t think the choice between three competing versions of male authority quite cuts it as real agency.

In this version, young lovers Eurydice (Erin Jederon-Hogg) and Orpheus (Shaun Hamilton) are immature and impetuous, carried away by romance and fantasy. They’re not especially well-suited: he’s airy, his head full of whimsy and song; she’s livelier, earthier; she likes to swim, dance and read. Nonetheless, they decide to marry.

Eurydice’s late father (John Beattie) is watching from beyond the grave, desperate to communicate with his daughter, to pass on parental advice. He writes her a letter and gives it to a worm, hoping it will somehow make its way to her. But a Nasty Interesting Man (Jimmy Kavanagh) intercepts the note, using it to entice Eurydice away from her wedding and to her death, to the Underworld where he presides…

Orpheus is devastated; Eurydice not so much. Of course, death is confusing at first. She’s bathed in the Waters of Lethe, so she can’t remember anything, not even how to speak. Once she reconnects with her father, however, things start to come back, and they’re happy together in their room of string, rebuilding their relationship.

But both Orpheus and the Nasty Interesting Man want to claim Eurydice as their own. Which of the three men will she choose?

Any issues I have with Eurydice are with the script, not Gutter.’s first-rate production. Jederon-Hogg and Kavanagh excel in the showiest roles, the former captivating as the lead, shining with youthful exuberance in the early scenes before recoiling uneasily from the INM’s creepy attempts at seduction. Kavanagh plays the INM with evident relish, his gaze eerily intense, his enunciation horribly slow and precise. He imbues this absurd version of Hades with real menace, even while dragging a small red tricycle behind him. The INM grows downwards, he says, and changes abruptly from toddler to playboy. Meanwhile, Hamilton and Beattie competently deliver the more understated performances their characters call for, Hamilton offering a palpable sense of loss and bewilderment, while Beattie provides a core of gentle stability.

The stones are my favourites though. Amelie Berry (Loud Stone), Aodhán Mallon (Big Stone) and Lisa Gilham (Little Stone) form a hilarious Greek chorus, whinging and whining in perfect unison, like bored children given too much responsibility.

The design of this piece belies its shoestring budget. The set (by Iris Ollier and Lydia Miller) makes ingenious use of cellophane, string and bent wire, while the costumes (by Eliza Beecroft) are bold and evocative. I especially like the over-sized suits worn by the stones; ragged, sleeveless and threaded with bits of old jewellery, they have a curious jarring effect.

Could there be more actual music in the play, especially when Orpheus is onstage? It would certainly help if we were shown how musical he is, rather than merely told. That aside, co-directors Jane Morgan and Rue Richardson have done a sterling job. This is a pacy, compelling production and the ninety-minute running time seems to fly by.

4 stars

Susan Singfield

Wallace

30/09/26

King’s Theatre, Edinburgh

It’s an auspicious night. We’re finally back at the King’s Theatre after a four year absence and the Old Lady of Leven Street is looking absolutely glorious, every surface gleaming after a £41 million upgrade. Ironically, similar observations might be made about Wallace. We were lucky enough to catch its humbler iteration last year as part of the Traverse’s A Play, A Pie and A Pint Season. It was clear from the get-go that this Scottish hip-hop bio-musical had the potential to fill more than the stripped-back propulsive hour it occupied then.

One glance at Neil Haynes’ magnificent set design, where the carcass of a deer dangles over a series of steps and ramps, confirms that the show has indeed taken a big leap – though ironically, composer/lyricist Dave Hook has taken a literal step back. He’s still cast as the titular Scottish hero but spends most of his time behind a sound deck, only stepping out to perform specific songs. The bulk of the narration goes to ‘Scotsman’ (Ross Mann), who proudly boasts that he is a direct descendent of William Wallace – and who has a hissy fit when he’s informed, later in the show, that his hero (if he existed) might not even have been Scottish.

Original show performers, ‘Sasenach'( Manasa Tagica) and ‘wummin’ (Patricia Panther) return to the fray. This time, Panther is accompanied by Madeleine Grieve and Kimberly Mandino, the three of them popping and locking in perfect time as they belt out the lyrics, making the most of the opportunity to sing about how women usually get overlooked in these alpha-male historic recreations.

What makes this musical really distinctive is that it has the guts to question its hero. Was William Wallace really any better than his adversary Edward “Longshanks?” (Yes, he was.) Didn’t they both emerge from cauldrons of calamity and cruelty, taught to be savage by the very savagery heaped upon them as they grew up?

There has been much talk of Wallace as the Scottish Hamilton, and perhaps that’s as good a description as any. Suffice to say, it makes a confident, swaggering transition to this bigger, longer production and the new material blends seamlessly with the old. Derek Anderson’s dynamic lighting designs add some truly dazzling effects and I love the perfectly-timed drop that ends the first act.

Of course, some things can be lost in translation. Perhaps this isn’t quite as sleek as that leaner, meaner original – and yes, occasionally in the sonic fury of the sound mix, those whip-smart lyrics are harder to follow. But nonetheless, Wallace is a satisfyingly epic production that confirms the suspicion I had when I saw it in its original guise: this is a winner – and as it moves on to an extended Scottish tour, it can only get better.

4.6 stars

Philip Caveney