Review of ‘Precipice’: “New political musical brings up edgy themes but ends up falling off its own cliff”

London’s New Diorama Theatre hosts the world premiere of the newborn Timelapse’s debut piece, set in a dystopian universe where the Earth’s resources have come to an end. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show to let us know if its green message has also led to a green delivery.

A few years ago, a young Cate Blanchett starred in a show about climate change. There’s no recording of the show — or at least, I couldn’t find it. What we know is how well people reacted to it. Three people sat through Act One. After the intermission, it was only one. Perhaps the two missing ones were so inspired that they just couldn’t wait until the end to save the world. Or perhaps, their impression was very much the same as I was left with last night, as the New Diorama Theatre hosted the opening of Precipice, a new musical set in a dystopian universe, where nature’s resources are no longer usable, and even the air can kill you.

If you think this premise screams preachment, you’re in the right. But you’d be wrong to consider that this is its main problem. Except for the score, every key aspect of the piece is devastatingly flawed — sketchy at best and messy at worst. It’s not much of a musical, in all truth. The whole thing comes across as a collection of songs connected by an extremely thin narrative thread. There are themes and an intention for an arc, but none of them are served in a satisfactory manner. And for the most part, they are not served at all.

Overall, there is no structure. Act One’s first half relies on excruciatingly sluggish exposition. It provides us with details that, in theory, should be relevant to the story. However, their execution is so heavy-handed that it continuously struggles to spark the slightest interest.

The book might be the main culprit for that offence, followed by the show’s overall development process as its accomplice. There is no credited writer. Instead, six different names are mentioned as its “creators”. It doesn’t say who’s done what, but we can assume that they’ve all added their small contribution to every element.

That’s exactly the problem. There is no cohesive vibe throughout the piece. Every aspect of it is discordant and unorganized. Rachel Bellman is said to have revised the script, but maybe an external supervisor would have helped shape a still very rough draft into a more sensical and, above all, functional recount.

Two vague storylines are intertwined throughout the performance. The first one concerns the election of the society’s new president. Hardly an engaging conflict unless it involves treacherous political manoeuvres and ulterior motives. The second relies on flashbacks to depict how two of its members fell in love before joining the community, and how their clashing principles set them apart.

Although the side plot is admittedly more hooking, the text’s sloppy delivery ruins every chance for effect. There’s no organicness or flow in its dialogue, which usually sounds clunky and aimless. The jokes barely land, often witless despite an apparent sense of self-reassurance. And the dramatic buildup is so weak that its showstopping number feels like an ironic move, and probably the only speck of motion in the entire work.

The musical numbers are generally well-placed, with the score standing as possibly the sole positive feature alongside the production’s design. A mixture of folk, rock, funky, and even atonal components concoct its distinctive essence, mostly ear-pleasing and full of memorable motifs. It’s also brilliantly orchestrated, with the extra value of the cast forming the live band — one of the few current trends that I’m happy to keep welcoming in the theatre.

The lyrics are a different matter, and not necessarily a good one. There is a degree of poetic sensitivity at some moments, but it never solidifies throughout a whole number. Too frequently, the wordplay is unrefined, and the subtext is missing. Most verses are vacuous and shallow, regurgitating concepts we already know without incorporating new perspectives — let alone insight.

The company defends the roles adequately, with Max Alexander-Taylor earning the highest mention as a nearly balanced triple threat, flaunting competent singing, passable acting, and extraordinary dexterity as a multi-instrumentalist.

The rest of the troupe fails to comply on a similar level, most sadly. The ones that can play aren’t that good at interpreting, while the better portrayals don’t exhibit the best vocals. Simultaneously, the lack of chemistry between Holly Freeman and Eric Stroud is severely prominent, underpinned by their limited comedic timing and the script’s all-present clumsiness.

The staging is arguably the production’s proudest achievement. Libby Todd’s figurative set instantly immerses viewers into the piece’s universe. Paint-peeling panels and carboy-made walls define the space, which is filled with dodgy artifacts and decaying furniture. Ben Jacobs’s sheer lighting stands, however, as the big winner of the evening, crafting an absorbing atmosphere that brims with visual suspense and intricacy.

Six phosphorescent people, confined to the penultimate floor of an implosive tower, shake upside down like rolling dice in the show’s artwork. It might have been a warning of what was about to happen. Or perhaps, a metaphor of what the making of this musical was like. Despite a decent germinal idea, the final product comes off unfiltered, polluted by its undirected narration, shallow exploration, and a noticeable lack of coordination among all the creative hands, which is hardly an appropriate environment for sustainable growth.

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All pictures credit to Alex Brenner.

Precipice plays at London’s New Diorama Theatre until 13 December. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara