Orpheus X

The description 'rock opera' means different things to different artists. Rinde Eckert's stylish but soulless Orpheus X combines rock music with operatic singing - for the most part, the result feels more like an indulgent exercise than a thrilling re-imagining of the classic myth.

Eckert stars as Orpheus, a rock star sufficiently famous that when he stays inside, fans camp outside. Holed up in what looks like a trendy New York loft appartment, he's brooding over the accidental death of a woman he never knew.

Somewhat implausibly, he has in his possession a poignant assortment of her belongings, and in true tortured artist fashion he mopes around the candle-lit space replaying the final moments of the poet Euridyce (Suzan Hanson), killed in a car accident after a momentary distraction.

John Kelly completes the cast in the dual role of Orpheus's manager John and Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, and delivers his comic lines with relish. All three performers are evidently extremely talented, but they struggle to overcome the sheer daftness of the libretto, and even perfect diction cannot compete with the persistent crash of a cymbal on every syllable in one irritating section.

The score is haunting and at times hypnotic, but Orpheus and Eurydice are (presumably by design) always kept at arm's length, too preoccupied by their artistic ambitions to seem capable of making meaningful connections with others. Initially, they are also kept from much of the audience - the edge of the stage is so far forward that from the grand circle Eurydice can't be seen until many minutes after her entrance.

Orpheus X poses some interesting questions about creativity, legacy, memory and fame, but by the time it begins to stagger slowly and painfully to its conclusion, many in the audience will instead find themselves asking how much more they must endure.