FRANZ & MARIE
Charing Cross Theatre
★★★
“If the script and lyrics let the production down, the musical numbers—delivered with passion—manage to lift it back up again.”
The German writer and dramatist, Georg Büchner, died in 1837 at the age of twenty-three. Although his works were largely forgotten by the 1870’s, they later became a major influence on European drama and theatre, including Ibsen, Strindberg and Chekhov. He left a fair bit of incomplete work, the most famous of which was his unfinished play ‘Woyzeck’ which had to wait over thirty years before it was first performed. Fragmented and faded, the pages of Büchner’s manuscript had to be chemically treated to make the text readable, and even then, the ending was left unresolved and the narrative fragmented; which in turn gives its many adaptations and revivals free rein to take liberties with it. The play invites reinvention and rearrangement.
At its heart, it is a dark story and one that doesn’t necessarily lend itself to the ‘musical’ treatment. With its themes of mental illness, dehumanisation, misogyny, war, abuse and murder it certainly doesn’t conjure ‘jazz hands’. But then again, Teresa Howard’s new adaptation of the late Chris Broderick’s “Franz & Marie” mercifully escapes this treatment as it follows the tragic journey of Franz Woyzeck, a lowly soldier, and his mistress Marie. To earn extra money, Franz takes part in medical experiments – one of which involves eating nothing but peas – and it is clear that his mental health is breaking down. Often hallucinating and unable to distinguish his dreams from reality, his paranoia and jealousy grow, especially with the arrival of an arrogant and handsome drum major who sets his sights on Marie. Franz’s devotion never wavers but his (not entirely unfounded) suspicions get the better of him with tragic consequences, a repeatedly referred to knife, and a fair bit of blood (although you have to imagine the blood).
The show boasts a fourteen strong cast of actor musicians who whirl around the stage like wild gypsies wasted in the woods. Even the uniformed soldiers have drifted into shiftless anarchy due to inactivity, despite the frequent sound of nearby gunfire. The show opens with Eve Polycarpou as Vashti, a kind of mistress of ceremonies who introduces the story in song with her raspy, folksy but gorgeously powerful vocals. Andrew Johnson’s sound design is impressive as the battleground noises merge into a heartbeat accompanied by the plaintive rhythm of a cajon. The music is by Chris Broderick and Rob Shepherd, who were bandmates of ‘The Singing Loins’, an alternative folk band of the nineties. The score reflects this raw edge, but with concessions to a few soulful ballads and duets to placate the MT crowd. Broderick is credited as the lyricist and book writer, but it is hard to establish how much Howard’s re-jigging has deviated from the original script written nearly twenty years ago.
Set in an indeterminate war-torn corner of nineteenth-century Europe, the action shifts to and from the woods and the village pub, although it isn’t clear at all whether that pub is the Queen Vic or an ‘Oirish’ bar. The Cockney accents are Dickensian with a whiff of Albert Square, save for Matthew Heywood’s Dublin-accented villain of the piece; Drum Major Varg. The F word abounds but, apart from that, the dialogue could have been lifted from a pre-watershed soap. A callowness to the characters’ diatribes and emotional pleas bars any emotional connection. Brenock O’Connor’s Franz does draw our sympathy as he sinks into his madness at the hands of his callous doctors and superiors, but Heywood’s Varg is a two-dimensional adversary, lacking the menace required despite a strong and animated performance.
If the script and lyrics let the production down, the musical numbers – delivered with passion – manage to lift it back up again. Jade Oswald is allowed to shine in her solo moments as Marie, particularly during ‘Lullaby’, ‘Unravelling’ and ‘If You Love Me’. Paula James, as Zella, delivers us a heart stirring ‘Inconsolable Boy’; an ode to Franz and Marie’s illegitimate baby. The ensemble and chorale moments are beautiful, yet they are a veneer, and best listened to without paying too much attention to the words. There is a wealth of musical talent on the stage, as the cast switch instruments and seamlessly drop out of character and into the roving orchestra. A couple of comedy numbers which are uncomfortably out of place, and a couple more that could be cut from the set list detract from the musical highlights and atmospheric setting and lead to a rather long evening. We are warned in the opening number, though, that “the road is long”. And then reminded during its reprise at the show’s finale. “For some it ends too soon” sings Polycarpou. Like the rising notes of her rich vocals, that sentiment is also left up in the air.
FRANZ & MARIE
Charing Cross Theatre
Reviewed on 5th October 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Danny Kaan
