Anastasia: A Musical That Misses the Mark
The true story of Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov, who was tragically killed alongside her father, Tsar Nicholas II, and the rest of her family during the Bolshevik revolution in 1918, is shrouded in myth. Despite overwhelming evidence of her demise, tales of her survival continue to captivate the imagination, giving rise to a seductive narrative that fuels both historical fiction and animated films. The 2017 Broadway musical, which recently debuted in Melbourne, Australia, attempts to capture this allure. However, it closely mimics Disney’s formula—overwhelming sentimentality, dazzling visuals, and a lack of substantial dialogue.
This adaptation draws inspiration from the 1997 animated film, featuring music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens. In this version, Anastasia (played by Georgina Hopson) survives a fictionalized attack on her family’s palace (which occurred years after their deaths) and becomes a street sweeper in St. Petersburg. She conveniently suffers from amnesia and believes her name is Anya, a rather simplistic plot device that the book writer, Terrence McNally, fails to address.
In the city now known as Leningrad, Anya encounters two charming rogues: the dashing Dmitry (Robert Tripolino) and the rotund Vlad (Rodney Dobson), the kind of endearing con artists typically found in musicals. Together, they concoct a plan to present Anya as the lost princess she unknowingly is, embarking on a journey to Paris to meet her grandmother, the empress dowager (Nancye Hayes), all while being pursued by the fervent Bolshevik general, Gleb Vaganov (Joshua Robson).
One would expect a thrilling narrative that intertwines the grand tapestry of history with the emotional turmoil of the characters, reminiscent of Les Misérables. Yet, this adaptation feels shallow and poorly conceived, failing to do justice not only to the animated original but also to the historical context. The Romanovs are portrayed as delicate victims of Bolshevik brutality, glossing over the complex reasons behind their downfall and their immense wealth while their citizens suffered. Instead of exploring these themes, the production opts for superficial comparisons of tiaras.
While animated films aimed at families can afford such liberties, a stage adaptation with aspirations of grandeur should engage with historical events more thoughtfully, especially those that continue to influence our world today. McNally captures the shifting allegiances of revolutionary times but neglects to address the intricate relationship between power and wealth. By omitting the character of Rasputin in favor of the less compelling Gleb, the narrative stakes are diminished, leaving the audience to ponder how to root for an heir to an undeserved fortune as she seeks validation from her extravagantly wealthy grandmother.
In true Disney fashion, the story bends historical facts to deliver a clichéd resolution. We are presented with a tale of a spirited young woman "discovering her identity" and "finally returning home" to Paris, despite her never having lived there.
The production boasts a façade of opulence, with costumes by Linda Cho and lighting by Donald Holder that evoke the sparkling grandeur of imperial Russia and the vibrant jazz scene of Paris. However, it is marred by unattractive projections (Aaron Rhone) filled with visual clichés that lack depth and clarity. Historical images flash by without leaving a lasting impression, from the lavish Palais Garnier in Paris to the lively streets of St. Petersburg, and the props appear oddly cheap and unconvincing (a crucial Fabergé music box resembles a dropped carburetor).
Tripolino and Dobson deliver a charming performance as the comedic duo, while Robson injects a sense of menace into his portrayal of the committed Bolshevik. Hayes adds much-needed weight to the role of the empress dowager, and Rhonda Burchmore shines as Countess Lily, a vibrant White Russian who provides protection to the royal figure. The production truly comes alive whenever she graces the stage.
However, a critical misstep lies in Hopson’s casting as the young ingenue. While she exhibits determination and spirit, she lacks the effortless charm and vulnerability essential for the role, and her vocal performance often feels strained and awkward. Additionally, some unfortunate wig choices and a costume reminiscent of Nurse Ratched do not help her case.
The creative team behind Anastasia previously brought us the powerful and moving Ragtime, which skillfully weaves real historical figures into a rich narrative. Unfortunately, they seem unable to replicate that magic here. While Anastasia touches on the end of imperialism in Russia, it is overshadowed by the cultural imperialism of America.
Why, one might wonder, do Australian actors adopt American accents when portraying Russian characters? Why do the songs, which are meant to reflect Russian folk traditions and Parisian styles, come across as forced and monotonous?
The producers may hope to enchant audiences with romanticism, but this tone-deaf celebration of privilege feels uncomfortably relevant in today’s context. It’s akin to a lavish ballroom amidst a cost-of-living crisis—simply off-putting.
Anastasia is currently showing at the Regent Theatre in Melbourne until February 20, before embarking on a tour to Perth, Sydney, and Adelaide.
