Spring Break
Greek myth takes the stage at the Wilma Theater
Deborah Yarchun
Issue date: 5/16/08 Section: Arts & Entertainment
Every once in a while a playwright comes along and completely redefines an audience's perception of theater. In some cases, this writer is completely ignored, or if their script receives a production, they are considered unruly and ostracized. Other times, they're lucky and are given a MacArthur Genius Award and nominated for the Pulitzer Prize. Such is the case of Sarah Ruhl, whose play, "Eurydice," is currently being given a marvelous production by the Wilma Theater.
Ruhl puts a fresh spin on the myth of "Orpheus" by casting musician Orpheus' wife, Eurydice, as the protagonist. In the myth, Orpheus is given the chance to reclaim Eurydice from the underworld, under the condition that as they walk towards the exit, he cannot look back at her. Of course, he does, and poof --- she's gone for eternity. Na've
In Ruhl's sweet rendition, na've Eurydice (Merritt Janson) is lured away from her wedding by the promise of a letter from her dead father by a predatory man in red, (played with great comedic timing by Triney Sandoval). When she refuses his advances, she plummets to her death and into the underworld where she is drenched in a river that erases her memory of the world of the living. There, she is greeted by three demonic and grotesque clowns (Gene D'Alessandro, Cathy Simpson and Erin Reilly) who are actually the cold stones of the underworld that serve as Ruhl's sometimes unnecessary but overall fascinating Greek chorus. While Orpheus (played charmingly by Benjamin Huber) desperately attempts to contact her, Eurydice finds herself increasingly at home with her father (Stephen Novelli), who died when she was much too young.
It's a story as translucent and deep as the water that runs across the middle of the Wilma's stage: a young lady is torn between the love of her father and her husband. The tragedy in this case is found not entirely in Orpheus' silly blunder of loving too much and looking back too soon, but also in her inability to leave her own childhood. They're ultimately mutually responsible for their tragic ends. This may serve as a comfort for those who have always perceived Eurydice as simply a feckless and faceless victim of fate. Sounds heavy, right? But with Ruhl, it's everything but that. Love and death are themes that Ruhl plays as light as the many balloons tied to the stage.
Ruhl puts a fresh spin on the myth of "Orpheus" by casting musician Orpheus' wife, Eurydice, as the protagonist. In the myth, Orpheus is given the chance to reclaim Eurydice from the underworld, under the condition that as they walk towards the exit, he cannot look back at her. Of course, he does, and poof --- she's gone for eternity. Na've
In Ruhl's sweet rendition, na've Eurydice (Merritt Janson) is lured away from her wedding by the promise of a letter from her dead father by a predatory man in red, (played with great comedic timing by Triney Sandoval). When she refuses his advances, she plummets to her death and into the underworld where she is drenched in a river that erases her memory of the world of the living. There, she is greeted by three demonic and grotesque clowns (Gene D'Alessandro, Cathy Simpson and Erin Reilly) who are actually the cold stones of the underworld that serve as Ruhl's sometimes unnecessary but overall fascinating Greek chorus. While Orpheus (played charmingly by Benjamin Huber) desperately attempts to contact her, Eurydice finds herself increasingly at home with her father (Stephen Novelli), who died when she was much too young.
It's a story as translucent and deep as the water that runs across the middle of the Wilma's stage: a young lady is torn between the love of her father and her husband. The tragedy in this case is found not entirely in Orpheus' silly blunder of loving too much and looking back too soon, but also in her inability to leave her own childhood. They're ultimately mutually responsible for their tragic ends. This may serve as a comfort for those who have always perceived Eurydice as simply a feckless and faceless victim of fate. Sounds heavy, right? But with Ruhl, it's everything but that. Love and death are themes that Ruhl plays as light as the many balloons tied to the stage.
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