NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

★★★★★

“The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion”

A major comet is visible from earth on average every five to ten years, while a great comet is visible every twenty to thirty years. Although the timescale may be contracted a little, a truly great show appears every once in a while, that forces people to look up and take note. “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” is one of the brightest examples of this phenomenon. Directed by Tim Sheader, Dave Malloy’s searing sung-through musical will scorch itself into our memories for a long time to come.

Malloy has taken a seventy-page segment from Leo Tolstoy’s ‘War and Peace’ and moulded it into a passionate, original musical that interweaves the fates of the two protagonists: the story of Natasha’s downfall and Pierre’s awakening. A tale of despair and of hope. Surrounded by a colourful array of characters, it could be a convoluted affair, but Malloy’s libretto clarifies the narrative with mischievous simplicity and imaginative ingenuity. We are propelled into the story by way of the ‘Prologue’; playfully executed like a cross between a memory game and an introductory meeting for a covert club. A few melodious words from each, between the repeated refrain that one of its members is absent. ‘Andrey isn’t here’. Andrey is off fighting in the Napoleonic Wars. His fiancé is here though. The beautiful Countess Natasha, tossed into the centre of the space – a smouldering comet on her journey from gleeful, betrothed ingenue to tragic heroine.

Chumisa Dornford-May grabs the roller-coaster ride of Natasha’s role with complete abandon and commitment. Her songs of innocence capsized by harsh experience. All around her is seduction. The hunters and the hunted; cuckolds and adulterers. In Moscow, waiting for the return of her fiancé, Natasha falls in love with the casually dismissive yet alluringly sexy Anatole (Jamie Muscato in gorgeous, rock-star, swaggering form). Anatole’s sister, Hélène, is delighted by the illicit affair. After all, it is de rigueur. She herself has made a cuckold of her husband – the deeply unhappy Pierre. Cat Simmons’ manipulative Hélène is sultry and sexy yet encased in ice, while Declan Bennett’s Pierre is dishevelled in appearance and self-esteem, yet the heat from his growing awareness can warm the hardest heart.

The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion. We want to know what is going to happen but at the same time want to stay in each moment for as long as possible. Malloy’s score (which he also orchestrated for the ten-piece band) is impossibly eclectic and wonderfully fearless. A mix of folk, anarcho-punk, techno, baroque, chamber and New Wave. One moment heartbreaking ballads, the next storms of dramatic scales and diminished sevenths. The musical numbers are bolstered by the ensemble – one minute a celestial choir, the next a band of whirling dervishes at a rave. The musicians have no break, and just when you think you’ve reached a musical highlight, another appears on the horizon. And the singing is extraordinary – both in virtuosity and emotion. Bennett’s solo number ‘Dust and Ashes’ sweeps us away one moment; then Dornford-May lures us back in with the heartfelt ‘No One Else’. Simmons’ smoky vocals bewitch during ‘Charming’. Maimuna Memon, as Natasha’s cousin Sonya who vainly tries to save her, beguiles with a hypnotic performance and mesmerising voice – her plaintive ‘Sonya Alone’ up there with the peaks of the set list.

Evie Gurney’s costumes are as lawless and rebellious as the score. Like a job lot stolen from the wardrobe of a New Romantic music video they scream sex, drugs and rock n roll. Period and modern, the design mirrors the entire production which defies time and place. We know we are in nineteenth century Moscow, but we could equally be in New York’s Studio 54 nightclub in the nineteen-seventies.

“Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” is a trailblazing show. Against Leslie Travers’ harsh, minimalist backdrop it dazzles at every level. It is spectacular and heartrending, right up to its closing number. Sung quietly to the accompaniment of a simple piano motif, it rises like the great comet of 1812, into an imagined starry sky. It brings with it the promise of a new life. It’s not the end of the world after all. The exhilaration ripples through everybody in the room. A soaring success.

NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed on 17th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

SKELETON CREW | ★★★★ | July 2024

THE HUMAN BODY | ★★★ | February 2024

LOVE AND OTHER ACTS OF VIOLENCE | ★★★★ | October 2021

NATASHA

We’re now on BLUESKY – click to visit and follow

★★★

“an exciting adaptation of a classic text that leaves the audience wanting more”

Before the start of Virginia Gay’s adaptation of Cyrano, the cast travel around the audience handing out poetry. A testament to the play’s dedication to words. By Cyrano’s own admission, such words should be at the forefront. However, with the use of an ever present meta-like Chorus and a somewhat self aware lead, the play felt like a study guide rather than an anthology. The story and characters were constantly being analysed and commented on as devices and functions rather than purely experiencing the world as people. The result was a simple story with an easy enough plot being complicated by its over intellectualization of itself.

Cyrano (Virginia Gay) is a local smart person, with a way with words and an unfortunately large nose. A nose so terrible that she believes she is incapable of love. They quickly meet Roxanne (Jessica Whitehurst): a beautiful yet shallow woman who has a huge crush on gorgeous yet wordless Yan (Joseph Evans). Roxanne is dissatisfied by Yan’s lack of ability to communicate meaningfully with her, which Cyrano pities. Therefore, Cyrano steps in to assist Yan by doing the talking for him. The original Cyrano is a classic text, however, not one that I’ve personally ever read or seen. This version assumes you already know the story, opening with the Chorus (Tessa Wong, David Tarkenter, Tanvi Virmani) trying to define its genre and making references which I was honestly quite confused by. If the point of modern adaptations is partly to make such classic texts more accessible then this didn’t help.

The Chorus continues to comment on the narrative throughout the play. This is of course traditional of this role, yet it did feel like the audience was being told how to feel. Points where we were told the scene is sad, for example, rather than the characters simply experiencing sadness. What saves us from this being a constant theme throughout was Virginia Gay’s performance as Cyrano. Her solo moments on stage were incredibly warm and personal, making you feel as if you were right next to her as she confessed her inner life. Other stand outs include Chorus member 2, David Tarkenter, who adds depth to his portrayal of comic relief and context delivery by giving a sense of real personal stake within the story. A very appreciated addition to the Chorus that would otherwise make the stage feel overcrowded with exposition and one liners.

This adaptation changes the ending of the story. I was made aware of this as the characters state what happens in the original. It instead concludes by an attempt to make amends. This culminates in Roxanne stating one conclusion and then very quickly changing her mind. With ten minutes of run time to spare and the need for a happy ending, deus ex machina is applied yet unfortunately lacks any punch. It was times like this in the play I deeply wished for more of the poetry that Gay uses singularly for Cyrano, to also be truly exploited for the dialogue.

The set (Amanda Stoodley) was minimal, using a mirror, three stage blocks, a spiral staircase and a piano. The floor was painted white with many markings, presumably for the movement of the set. Costume (Stoodley) was modern and reflected a sense of each character. Cyrano wears jeans, boots and a shirt which favours practicality over beauty. Roxanne wears satin red joggers and a decorated satin jacket – comfortable yet glamorous in style.

Lighting (Andy Purves) and Sound (Toby Young) were very effective in driving the piece. Moments of intimacy were heightened by gentle fades of light focused centre stage and moments of silence contracted well with the business of ensemble scenes. Dance breaks were also dotted around throughout with classic disco songs, paired with colour washes and the occasional smoke machine.

Overall, an exciting adaptation of a classic text that leaves the audience wanting more. Unfortunately I fear what they may want more of is substance.

NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

★★★★★

“The performances are uniformly superb, the skin of each character ripped open by the flaming crossbow of passion”

NATASHA, PIERRE & THE GREAT COMET OF 1812

Donmar Warehouse

Reviewed on 17th December 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Johan Persson

Previously reviewed at this venue:

NATASHA

NATASHA

NATASHA

CYRANO

Park Theatre

★★★

“an exciting adaptation of a classic text that leaves the audience wanting more”

CYRANO

Park Theatre

Reviewed on 17th December 2024

by David Robinson

Photography by Craig Sugden

Previously reviewed at this venue:

CYRANO

CYRANO

CYRANO