Orpheus in the Underworld: Cape Town City Ballet’s hilarious spoof of a timeless myth

If this is what the Underworld is like, sign me up!

Gloriously funny, sometimes sweet, often sassy, incredibly easy on the eye, and danced with verve, energy and tremendous spunk, Veronica Paeper’s revival of her 45-year-old comic ballet, Orpheus in the Underworld, is a triumph for Cape Town City Ballet.

It’s a whimsically styled 1920s, and there’s a car powered by human feet, an airship that descends and rises into the theatre’s flies, and there are cardboard cut-out dogs being taken for a stroll across the stage.

That’s just in the physical realm. In this rollicking, epic-scale spoof of the mythical adventure, we also venture into a gloriously outré indoor pool. And then – deeper still – into a crimson-hued underground nightclub: Hades.

In this scorchingly hedonistic Underworld, the ancient gods are socialites and Mafia bosses. And while they dance up a metaphoric storm, one flash of Jupiter’s lightning bolt literally turns the weather weird, summoning storms more supernatural in nature.

Based on an idea that Paeper initially wasn’t too keen on pursuing, and developed over three years, the ballet is a triumph of beautiful staging, sparkling humour and very clever redeployment of characters poached from antiquity for composer Jacques Offenbach’s eponymous comic opera which cleverly parodies the myth about Orpheus travelling to Hades in order to restore his beloved Eurydice to life.

Using Michael Tuffin’s arrangement of Offenbach’s music, Paeper not only ran with the send-up sentiment, but pushed the comedy into all sorts of devilishly unexpected corners.

She even incorporates Offenbach himself as a character who is in a sense attempting to orchestrate proceedings, and at the same time seems to be the long-suffering manager of the Hôtel le Grand, which is the fabulous, fantastical and ultimately outlandish setting for Paeper’s topsy-turvy reimagining of the tale.

Part of its success is the combination of fresh, innovative choreography and an instruction to the dancers to make each of the characters a distinct, discernible personality. Since much as the world of the ballet is somewhat abstracted from reality, existing in a kind of ethereal comic realm, the performances – individually and as a whole – make the world feel really alive.

What a relief, too, to see the entire Opera stage being used, so that there’s depth and a genuine sense of space, and so that the dancers have room to move and express themselves – and have an inordinate amount of fun in the process.

The set leans into a stylised use of cardboard cut-out illustrated nostalgia, much of it painted to feel a bit like the dancers are set within a series of three-dimensional Seurat or Signac pointillism paintings. It’s a visual treat, imagined by a designer with a gift for visual humour – and for crafting a distinct alternative reality.

Designer Peter Cazalet’s costumes are just as exquisite and off-the-wall as his wonderful sets, and the choice of settings for each of the three acts enabled him to showcase three very different wardrobe ranges.

Visually delightful as it is, it’s really the dancing that audiences are there to experience. Paeper’s choreography is punchy and interesting to watch, frequently dipping into a balletic language that seems untethered from anything you might have seen elsewhere.

Her balletic take on the can-can, danced to one of Offenbach’s most famous pieces of music, the frenetic, fast-paced Galop Infernal, is a thing of absolute joy. The same can be said for many of the other set pieces – the group scenes are infectiously upbeat and lively, full of whimsical movements and gorgeous leg work, much of it evidently designed to put the dancers through their paces, while stretching their funny bones.

So too the duets and solo sequences. On the night I watched it (there are three different cast combinations), Luke Wragg and his enviably muscular legs unleashed absolute pandemonium in the role of Mercury, dancing (and just about flying) as though the fate of the universe depended on it – athletic, gracious, joyous, he is simply intoxicating to behold.

Speaking of intoxication: it’s worth paying special attention to Kirstél Paterson who, on the night I watched the show, danced Calliope, Orpheus’s dipsomaniacal mother who travels by airship and hands out gifts wherever she lands. Her ability to balletically capture comedic inebriation was one of the night’s many highlights.

Delightful, too, are a trio of geriatrically unhinged “elderly gods” whose antics at the Olympian swimming pool are comedy gold. And there’s the Mafia foursome, seemingly part of Pluto’s hit squad, who dance and prowl across the stage in ever-so-slightly oversized suits – they reminded me of Mad Magazine’s zany Spy vs. Spy duo, albeit in black-and-white-striped duds and ready with some very cool dance moves.

Although the ballet’s plot centres on the journey to Olympus and then to the Underworld undertaken by Orpheus and Calliope, these two characters are in a way really an excuse to follow Eurydice’s shifting emotional journey as she’s taken to Hades after rather immediately becoming besotted with Pluto (it’s brilliant and hilarious how Paeper has her externalise the intense pitter-patter of her lust-struck heart).

When Eurydice and Pluto dance, there are genuine fireworks – very different to her half-hearted, awkward attempt to dance with her self-absorbed husband, which let’s you know immediately that the fizzle long ago went out of their marriage. Judging by Orpheus’s obsession with his instrument – his violin, that is – it’s a wonder he ever managed to land a beauty such as Eurydice in the first place.

Meanwhile, Pluto – Eurydice’s seducer-slash-abductor – drives a fancy car and knows not only how to bust a move, but how to make his partner feel desired. This god of the Underworld is transformed in Paeper’s ballet into a scheming Mafia boss who initially comes across as an arch, diabolical Lothario.

On Saturday, he was danced by Australian Zachary Healy, who rightly sets him up as a sinister shadow-dweller. Once you witness the effect of his seductive charms on Eurydice, however, see how beautifully he dances with her and observe the size of his shoulders and scope of his graceful athleticism, you pretty much end up wishing he’d abduct you to the Underworld, too.

It’s this incredible feeling of really wanting to spend time in the company of these dancers that ultimately makes this production sparkle. There’s not a moment when you aren’t being made to feel pleasure at the prospect of peeking into what is essentially an utterly bonkers alternative reality inhabited by all sorts of fascinating characters.

Despite being a repertoire ballet, this production is fresh, exhilarating and full of verve. As both a time capsule and as a repository of many wonderful ideas, it’s a joy to watch. So perfect for the moment we’re in, a trip to this Underworld is a superb way to elevate your mood for a few hours. DM

Orpheus in the Underworld is showing at the Artscape Opera theatre until 21 June.