From July 30 to Aug. 2, the Sweetwater Union High School District Visual and Performing Arts (VAPA) department performed “Hadestown” at San Ysidro High School, turning a local auditorium into a space where myth, music, and politics collided. For me, the timing could not have been more resonant. In moments when politics feels increasingly turbulent and history seems to circle back on itself, I have often wondered whether we are moving forward at all. But this student-led production—complete with a stripped-down set evoking the grit of the underworld, a chorus whose presence filled the theater with startling professionalism, and a lead performance by graduated BVH senior Lorenzo Malatag as Orpheus that balanced wide-eyed hope with paralyzing doubt—reminded me that repetition is not futile but resilient, a truth as relevant to politics as to a myth retold.
The musical, written by Anaïs Mitchell, reimagines the ancient Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice: a young poet descends into the underworld to rescue his beloved, only to lose her when he doubts himself, breaking Hades’ single rule and dooming her to remain in the underworld. Woven into this love story is a darker allegory of capitalism and authoritarian control, with Hades ruling a factory-like underworld where workers trade freedom for survival. It is a bleak tale, and the show closes with Orpheus’s failure as Eurydice remains in the underworld, and Hades retains his power. But notably, in the second to last number the cast circles back, singing, “It is a sad song, but we’re gonna sing it again and again.” This reprise reframes the tragedy: Orpheus’s failure becomes part of a cycle of persistence.
This thematic depth of the show was undoubtedly amplified by the ensemble, whose presence onstage brought the underworld–and its symbolism–to vivid life. The ensemble, guided by choreographer Iris Chamberlain, was a standout of the production, bringing energy, precision, and a strong visual rhythm to the stage. Chamberlain, a seasoned musical theater teacher and director with about two decades of experience choreographing student productions, crafted movements that made the Workers’ Chorus both cohesive and dynamic. As Orpheus sang the end of Epic II and the Workers’ Chorus came chanting and stomping in unison from the stage wings, I held my breath in awe.
In “Hadestown”, the workers are central to the story’s message: they represent the exploited laborers under Hades’ control, the human cost of authoritarian rule, and the resilience of ordinary people in the face of oppression. The application of “Hadestown’s” themes to the audiences’ real world was made more profound by the ensemble’s presence off stage, occupying the aisles on either side of the house, adding an immersive quality to the show. By surrounding the audience in this way, the production collapses the distance between myth and reality, telling the audience that the story unfolding before them is not pure fiction but a reflection of society.
Though not main characters, the Workers’ Chorus are the crux of the musical’s advocacy, and the choreography made this clear. Each stomp, turn, and formation reinforced their presence, giving the ensemble a physical and symbolic weight that elevated the narrative, highlighting the stakes of Orpheus and Eurydice’s journey while grounding the myth in a powerful commentary on labor and survival. Such shows the integral role choreography plays in storytelling, to which Chamberlain absolutely delivered.
Being an avid musical theater fan–though not nearly as avid a performer–I am always delighted when a show places such a spotlight on its ensemble, in fact it is some of the best shows that do (take shows like “Hamilton” or “West Side Story” for example). So by the end of the opening number, “Road to Hell”, I got a sense that I was witnessing a perfect storm for an impressive retelling of the Greek myth–turned musical. I was right; look no further than BVH junior Dalia Candelario’s rendition of Persephone and Chula Vista High School senior Luke Nelson’s take on Hermes.
As any director or armchair critic can tell you, casting makes all the difference. Especially in student-led productions where skill level may often vary more significantly than in the industry. (The worst dancer at a Broadway casting call’s audition is likely more experienced than the worst dancer at a local elementary school’s auditions.) Though SUHSD’s “Hadestown” proved itself to be not like the others, as every member of the cast pulled their own weight and contributed to a beautiful finished product. That said, Candelario and Nelson’s performances were showstoppers. Their Broadway-caliber stage presences were immediately captivating.
Both showed a true command over the audience; Nelson does so from the musical’s opening dialogue when he leads the audience through a call and response: “Aight?” Nelson shouts. “Aight,” the full house responds. Candelario is no exception, she took charge bringing the show back from intermission into the second act with Our Lady of the Underground. It was by this song that I think it was certain this production was a resounding success. Their performances solidified this, as they added dimension to the storytelling. Nelson’s charisma as Hermes grounded the audience in the world of the play, while Candelario’s playful defiance as Persephone sharpened the show’s critique of power and excess.
With all the components necessary to make a masterpiece, it was simply a matter of whether or not these elements would work together to initiate the perfect chemical reaction. The real test was in one of the story’s key turning points: “If It’s True”. This pivotal song occurs in the Underworld as Orpheus questions Hades’ authority, prompting the Workers to realize the system they have been following is unjust and sparking a moment of collective awareness and emotional resistance.
When I watched this number it was the production’s closing night. And at this particular performance, towards the end of the song, just as the workers began singing the chorus “We stand and listen” a couple of audience members stood up. At first I, and presumably the other turning heads in the audience, were confused about what was happening. But as soon as more viewers took to their feet the message became loud and clear: We are standing with them. By the song’s conclusion nearly the entire audience was standing. I do not know what motivated each person to rise, but on some level, we all acknowledged the truth of what we were seeing and hearing. In that moment, we stood in solidarity with the performers and their characters, believing in the story they were telling and the message it sought to convey. The energy of the ensemble spilled into the audience, breaking the fourth wall without words, reminding us that stories of oppression and resistance are not confined to the stage, but live in every eye that watches and every heart that listens.
What stood out was not just the ambition of the message, but its execution: the on stage band of trombone, cello and keys (an apt homage to the Broadway staging of the show), the precision of the Workers’ Chorus stomping in unison, and the hushed silence that fell as Orpheus sang with raw vulnerability. These choices gave the tragic ending a sharper edge, while also making the reprise–where the story begins anew–feel unexpectedly hopeful. The very quality of the performance heightened the poignancy of the message: watching young performers throw themselves so fully into a story about struggle, loss, and persistence made the themes of endurance and renewal land with unusual force. “Hadestown” ends in heartbreak, but it dares us to keep telling the story. In this South Bay auditorium, that call felt clear: progress may falter, hope may feel fragile, but we return to the song because trying is the only way change ever comes.
