Chapter Text
With theater being such a persistent and re-interpretable medium, genderbent productions are of course extremely common for works that stick around long enough. This always brings interesting creative challenges, but can doubly do so for musicals, where one must not only change pronouns and gender-specific words, but often do it while preserving (or re-creating) rhyme and meter. And since I’m obsessed with Hadestown, and since ancient mythology is even more frequent fodder for gender-playing than popular plays, I plan to attempt a lyrical re-write for a fully genderflipped production and present my attempt to all of you. I have this 99% written already, so I should be able to give it to you one song per week. And away we go!
Road to Hell
Lights up, and we see our Hermes for the evening. She should evoke the idea of a hobo Mae West, or else Miss Kitty several years after the saloon closed down and the money ran out.
Hermes (with Chorus providing the usual backup)
Mmmmmm
Mmmm-hmmmmm
Chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga, chuga-chuga
Once upon a time there was a railroad line
Don’t ask where, brother, don’t ask when
It was the road to Hell
It was hard times
It was a world of gods and men.
It’s an old song. It’s an old tale from way back when.
It’s an old song, and we’re gonna sing it again.
Gods and men, alright. We got some gods in the house tonight!
On the road to Hell there was a railroad line
And there were three old geezers all dressed the same.
And they was always singing in the back of your mind
Everybody meet the fates!
Spotlight on the Fates, who are wearing classic hobo gear of their own. Their outfits may not match exactly, but they should all be wearing the same hat.
And on the road to Hell, there was a railroad line
And a fella stepping off a train
With a suitcase full of summertime, Persephone by name!
Spotlight on Persephone, wearing slim-cut pants and a vivid green silk shirt with a riotous floral print. He winks exaggeratedly at the audience. He’s two parts Cab Calloway, one part Errol Flynn, and one part Groucho Marx.
And if you ride that train (Ride that train)
If you ride that train (Ride that train!)
If you ride that train to the end of the line
Where the sun don’t shine and it’s always shady
It’s there you’ll find the Queen in the Mine, almighty Lady Hades!
Spotlight on Hades, who lowers her sunglasses to regard us coolly. Think Katherine Hepburn for this one: in slacks, but with styled hair and intense glam makeup, oozing coiled catlike confidence.
We got any other gods? Oh right, almost forgot.
On the road to Hell there was a railroad station
And a dame with feathers on her feet
Who could help you to your final destination, Madam Hermes! That’s me.
See, someone’s got to tell the tale
Whether or not it turns out well
Maybe it will turn out this time
On the road to Hell, on the railroad line
It’s a sad song
It’s a sad tale, it’s a tragedy
It’s a sad song
We’re gonna sing it anyway.
Now not everyone gets to be a god, and don’t forget that times are hard
Hard times in the world of men, let me introduce you to a few of them
If you could tip your hats and your wallets, brothers and sisters, boys and girls
To the hardest-working chorus in the gods’ almighty world!
And working just as hard for you, let’s see what this crew can do!
On the road to Hell there was a railroad line
And a poor girl working on a song (La, la-la-la la la la)
Her mama was a friend of mine
And this girl was a musician
On the railroad line, on the road to Hell
You might say the girl was touched (Laaaa la-la la la la la)
‘Cause she was touched by the gods themselves, give it up for Orpheus!
Light on Orpheus, who is staring off into space. Her clothing is profoundly mismatched, as if she rooted through the remains of the wardrobe from Hermes’ old saloon, but came out with something completely artless and unsexy. Judy Garland, perhaps, but with her usual glamour turned way down.
There was one more soul on this road
Boy, come on in from the cold!
On the railroad line on the road to Hell
There was a young boy looking for something to eat
And brother, thus beings the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice!
One last light on Eurydice. His clothing is simple, utilitarian, but there is at least one incongruous statement piece, likely grabbed as a desperate bid for ornamentation, for beauty in a harsh world. In affect, he somehow strikes the perfect midpoint between a young Anthony Perkins and a young James Dean.
It’s a love song. It’s a tale of a love from long ago
It’s a sad song, but we’re gonna sing it even so
It’s an old song. It’s an old tale from way back when.
And we’re gonna sing, we’re gonna sing, we’re gonna sing it again, again, again, again!