The Charing Cross Theatre hosts the London (and English-language) premiere of the Korean musical depicting the life of the iconic scientist. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this sung-through recount of the acclaimed researcher manages to bring chemistry to the stage.
The world is run by outcasts. And particularly, those who fight that label in order to dream outside the box they’ve been put into. Stories about misunderstood (and often, looked down upon) characters are to musical theatre what lies are to some political parties (you know who I’m talking about): you can’t have one without the other. From deformed artistic geniuses to greenified sorcerers with a bit of a bad reputation, the genre has regaled us, for decades and decades to come, with hundreds (if not thousands) of recounts dealing with the struggles of people who just didn’t feel like the rest – and who were determined to make that difference seen and heard.
The tale of Marie Curie is fascinating in its own right: a young, promising Polish immigrant who nobody believed in (at least, according to this version), but whose commitment to prove everybody wrong became the fuel that defined her life – but sadly, also led to her very end. Thus, an excellent premise for any sort of dramatic work, the idea of turning her trials and tribulations into a melange of song and dance (though more in a Les Mis type of way) seems like a sound choice to make. That is, of course, as long as its formulation doesn’t bring the wrong kind of explosion.
Last weekend, the Charing Cross Theatre continued its signature programming – bringing to the London stage the English-language premiere of international mega-musicals. Following the opening of the laugh-bombing hit adaptation of Bronco Billy (review here – haha, made you click! See? Now you really want to do it), the expectations for another fun (at least, in some manner), entertaining and, most importantly, compelling piece get understandably higher. And we could say that they’ve been met, but sadly only halfway through.
An old diary precedes the unraveling of Marie Skłodowska’s (that’s when pen names started to get trendy) account. A mourning daughter relishes on the memories of a distant mother, who despite her deep love for both her husband and child, could not ever forsake her stronger passion for science and investigation. Parting from a concept with so many possibilities to explore the human soul through methods only this genre can bring along, it’s precisely how, most unfortunately, all of them are severely overlooked that makes this experiment break down in too many levels.
Featuring a score by Jongyoon Choi, his skills stand out as for the melodious power of its tunes. They’re enjoyable, they are touching at some moments. But wistfully, they are not that memorable. And the reason why is not that they are not catchy, but remind a bit too much of resources we’ve already listened to before. From Evita-esque sequences to Rebecca moan-evoking orchestral snippets, the decisions made as for the composition styles seems slightly confusing. Of course, period pieces don’t necessarily need to seek accuracy when it comes to its musical themes, but its flavour should be provided somehow. Instead, we are presented with a repertoire which, though amusing, makes no reference whatsoever to the Polish and French background we would wish it depicted.
The issue is, most regrettably, only augmented by the fact that its narrative structure is a little flawed by what, in the end, seems like a wrong selection of either the moments or topics to burst into song for. With book and lyrics by Seeun Choun (adapted into English by Tom Ramsay), it feels a bit frustrating to see how the most introspective aspects about Marie’s journey are reduced to a few lines of dialogue, while most of the tunes deal with contents that are either superfluous to the tale, or are not sufficiently developed to give us a solid enough perspective and, most importantly, let us connect with it.
In any case, the glitches we can find in its writing are, to some extent, evened out by what, all in all, is a rather marvelous production. Taking into account the limited possibilities that the venue offers regarding space, Rose Montgomery’s design manages to make the most of its opportunities by delivering a suggestive, visually-enticing and quite dynamic scenography. In addition, Prema Mehta’s lighting constitutes one of the most polished components of the entire montage – crafted with superb intricacy and an unquestionably ability to create both beauty and atmosphere all through the performance, fairly supported by Matt Powell’s
The praise continues with what’s possibly one of the best companies the London scene has to offer in the current season. With the whole ensemble playing with incredible vitality, rapport and magnetism, their rather acceptable acting prowess are however overcome by their remarkably good vocals – exuding outstanding technical capability mixed up with a delightfully heartfelt approach in their interpretations. Among them, Richard Meek makes quite a memorable appearance through his elegant rendition as factory owner Ruben DeLong, while Ailsa Davidson flaunts splendid bel canto capacity through her reserved though appropriate portrayal of Madame Curie.
Relying on a sturdy compound, Marie Curie makes laudable efforts to make its reactors work, but lamentably achieves a partly undesirable result by mimicking too much the predecessors it endeavours to pay tribute to, instead of finding its own identity. With its pacing feeling generally rushed, as well as the script still not capable of bringing the real woman behind the myth, the show has the basics to concoct a singular, transcendent jaunt through the eyes of one of the most influential personages of the last century – but for that to happen, it needs to do more than allowing us to know her, but to get to know her by itself before.
All pictures credit to Pamela Raith.
Marie Curie plays at London’s Charing Cross Theatre until 28 July. Tickets are available on the following link.