EURYDICE
Brighton’s New Venture Theatre has become a centre for excellence and ambition when it comes to making theatre. Their programming is bold and confident and their audiences loyal. It really is an asset to the city’s creative and cultural scene. When you add to the mix writer and director Sam Chittenden you can readily assume that you are in for an exciting evening.
Photo: Kelly Garcia
This time she has chosen a play by Sarah Ruhl, a retelling of the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. It’s a contemporary setting, set in the USA and the underworld. The shift to a modern world works well enough but the whole hangs on the beauty of Ruhl’s language, there is a poetry to it that is simply magical.
Chittenden works with the text to empower her cast to bring this mythalogical tale to life, and her cast are simply superb. Leila-May Lewis-Dupuy is delightfully naive as Eurydice, there are gentle elements of privilege, entitlement and charm. She is so in love with Orpheus and why not? Maria Veness is totally loveable as her musical suitor, he adores her, a love without question and a love portrayed with gentle passion.
Photo: Kelly Garcia
Of course they marry but at the wedding she is led astray by a character billed as a Nasty Interesting Man and so starts her descent into the underworld. Andy Hoggarth is chillingly cool in the role, suave yes but seductively sinister. It’s played in total contrast to when he returns as Lord Of The Underworld, here we get a deeply disturbing man-child, a dungaree wearing demonic presence, scary and yet fascinating as he tumbles onto the stage through a dark hole in the black set.
Photo: Kelly Garcia
In the underworld Eurydice meets her father, already dead. Andy Clawson is a gentle resigned presence with some of the best of the script to deliver and he delivers it with total confidence. With a script so steeped in the magic of Ruhl’s poetic vision confidence is essential and this actor really delivers, really!
The magic continues with a Greek chorus of stones, big stone, little stone and loud stone. It’s a comic device that adds an element of humour but also carries a dark edge, one moment funny the next the bearers of a doom laden inevitable tragedy. Nadine Rayburn fiddles with a ball of string, Sophoulla Gibson is brash and Maria Sturt sweet but scary. Much of course depends on the way they deliver their speeches in unison, get that wrong and it’s just a mess, but they get it so right, word perfect and disturbing.
Rob Punter’s black set is well conceived, the lift to Hades descends in a shower of rain, the nasty man’s high rise apartment is given an air of rich elegance by a simple stripe of baroque gold wallpaper and a fleecy rug and his later appearances as lord of the underworld work well. Chittenden and costume designer Karen Hindmarsh dress him in a black suit to start but later he is a cross between the American cartoon character Just Dennis and a demonic Ronald McDonald, very unsettling and very unpleasant. Sabrina Giles lights the whole beautifully, not afraid of the dark and scattering light where needed with the lightest of touches.
It’s a very beautiful telling of the tragedy, Ruhl’s words brought to life, and death, by an excellent company. Chittenden does it again!
Andrew Kay
21 June
New Venture Theatre
Rating:
Can’t wait to see it.
I saw Eurydice on the back of this review and honestly, I couldn’t disagree more. The production was creatively anaemic – one of the most student-level stagings I’ve seen on the Brighton amateur circuit in years. Stilted pacing, uninspired visuals, and direction that felt more like box-ticking than anything resembling a cohesive vision. It coasted entirely on the strength of the source material, which was left to do all the heavy lifting.
The performances themselves are far less at fault than the direction, which consistently failed to offer shape, clarity, or drive. Without meaningful guidance or dynamic blocking, the cast were left stranded. The Stones became a constant distraction, with what felt like unchecked, juvenile bickering at the edges of the stage. Eurydice was left directionless, her presence felt vague and emotionally hollow, a result of unclear character work rather than lack of effort. The Father, too, was given little variation in tone or objective, resulting in a monotonous, one-note delivery. Orpheus came across as disengaged and unsure, a reflection of how little shape or weight the direction gave to their journey.
One moment laid bare the lack of care more than any other: Orpheus’s iconic ascent from the underworld – a moment defined by tension and tragedy – was blocked so poorly that they repeatedly faced the very direction Eurydice was standing in. The climactic ‘turn’ was underscored by a sound cue so limp it landed like a sad trombone punchline. Movement across the piece was either clumsy or oddly choreographed: most characters simply stood centre stage to recite lines, while Orpheus’s letters followed the same inexplicable pattern every time – start on one side, cross to the other mid-speech, return to finish. Every. Single. Time.
Another glaring missed opportunity was its complete failure to use the full, derelict set in any meaningful way. For a play set between worlds – dreamlike, mythic, surreal – the staging was flat and literal. The underworld never felt liminal or strange. The space sat lifeless around the action, full of potential that was never tapped into.
More troubling, though, is the pattern this review fits into. When infallible praise is handed out this freely, it stops resembling criticism and starts reading like hero worship. This kind of indiscriminate praise doesn’t elevate theatre and it erodes trust in the publication’s judgement.
What Brighton theatre deserves, even in the amateur world, is criticism with integrity, not puff pieces written to flatter friends. When reviewers hand out five stars like favours, everyone loses: the artists who miss out on real feedback, the audiences misled by hollow praise, and the scene itself, which stagnates under the illusion of excellence.
I am sad that you felt misled by my review but we are all entitled to our opinion and that is after all what a review is about, a personal opinion. I freely admit to being a fan of the director’s work but after 30 years and more of seeing and reviewing theatre, and where criticism is due, dishing it out, I feel that my words here are my unbiased opinion. And I happily put my name to that and do not hide behind some kind of anonymity. Stars are the gift of a reviewer and are often controversial and maybe I err on the side of being kind at times. But on this occasion they are a real reflection of what I felt after seeing what is a very beautiful piece of writing delivered by an excellent cast. We can’t all like the same things in equal part, would that life were so easy.
@Theatre Critic – If you’re going to slate a play, a director, or a reviewer for that matter, at least have enough integrity to put your name to your post. Your anonymity – and your certainty that your perceived issues lie squarely with the director – make you look like you have a grudge to bear. Unless you were in the rehearsal room, what could you possibly know of the challenges that arose, and how the director chose to address them? Yours is a disappointing comment from an otherwise supportive and celebratory local theatre scene. If you want to slag people off, go and pick on the people who get paid, not the ones volunteering their time for the love of it.
The thing is “Theatre Critic” anonymity is very difficult to maintain when AI is so good. It can be quite revealing.
They make some astute points, and I don’t disagree entirely, but it would be nice to know who to debate with in the NVT bar!
Me
Excuse me but if someone is going to be hounded like this over an opinion, no wonder they would choose anonymity! I’m not sure the head of NVT suggesting they want to track this person down via AI is a good look for the company… and if an audience is expected to pay for tickets, I say criticism of the product paid for is absolutely fair enough! These comments are disappointing and don’t reflect well on the community.
Let the dogs on him, Jules!
Hounded
It’s fair to feel disappointed by a production, but this reads less like a review and more like a personal vendetta dressed up in adjectives.
You’re clearly intelligent and know your theatre, but the sheer level of detail, the tone, the anonymity…it’s giving less “constructive critique” and more “someone didn’t get cast/offered an opportunity and has been stewing ever since.”
Everyone on that stage gave their time freely. They may have missed the mark for you, but tearing it apart this thoroughly, without putting your name to it, just feels a little… bitter. And not in the fun, Greek-tragedy way.
No one is being hounded. If you share your views on a public site, you open yourself up to the opinions of others. My view is this: it’s possible to critique people’s work respectfully, and if you do that, there’s no need for anonymity. It’s good to see the author has now owned his views.
i think that’s really well put, Charly. Critique absolutely has its place, but so does accountability. If you’re confident enough in your opinion to post a public takedown, it makes sense to stand by it. Otherwise, it just risks reading as snide rather than sincere.
Respectful criticism and open dialogue are what make creative communities better; not anonymous broadsides and pitchforks. So I agree it’s a good thing the author put his name to it (Sam)
Righ; this has clearly got out of hand.
I want to say upfront that I was disappointed by the production, and frustrated that I’d read a glowing review that didn’t reflect my own experience. But posting such a harsh, public critique, especially anonymously, was the wrong way to handle that frustration.
I should have shared my thoughts privately, with those involved, rather than putting something out there that felt personal and unfair. Reading it back now, I’m honestly quite ashamed of the tone I took and the furore that’s followed.
As someone who cares about the local theatre community, I’m embarrassed to have contributed to this kind of atmosphere. The comments were written and shared in haste, and I regret them.
To the cast and crew: I’m sorry. I hope this apology is a first step towards making amends.
And just to add, for Mr Kay – this wasn’t meant as a personal critique of you. I realise now it might have come across that way, but it really wasn’t my intention. It was more a venting of frustration at the general theatre criticism scene in Brighton, which I know isn’t something you’re responsible for.
Apologies if it felt like a direct swipe—genuinely, it wasn’t. Much respect.