★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”

Set in the not-too-distant future, Takuya Kato’s “One Small Step” depicts a society where colonising the moon has become a practical reality. The scenario throws up many questions, some of which are touched upon in this short two-hander from Japan, but the focus of the story is very much rooted in present day, down-to-earth problems within the confines of a conventional marriage. The premise is a fascinating one, but ultimately it doesn’t really go anywhere. It’s all very well setting your sights on the moon, but you need to figure out the launchpad first.

Takashi (Mark Takeshi Ota) and Narumi (Susan Momoko Hingley) are a married couple working for a major company that is establishing a city on the moon. They share, with a touching yet naïve idealism, a wide-eyed enthusiasm at being part of humanity’s ‘fresh start’. Perhaps it’s because their own relationship needs a fresh start, as they spend the next hour bickering inconclusively. The mundane swiftly progresses to the central dilemma of the narrative. Narumi is pregnant, which puts her involvement in the forthcoming moon-shot in jeopardy. Cue the tried-and-tested, quasi-intellectual debates about abortion, the rights of women (and men), the right to life, corporate attitudes to maternity, careerism.

Narumi cannot seem to make up her mind about anything as Hingley plays tug-of-war with her character. We never really know whether she intends to keep her baby or not, but unfortunately, we cease to care. Little wonder then that Ota’s Takashi ends up in a whirl of schoolyard frustration. The discussions they repeat are pretty puerile given the subject matter. As the couple orbit around each other we expect them to gradually get closer, but there is little chemistry between the two and the inward spiralling of the script is claustrophobic. Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles. At one point a robotic floor cleaner is seen surreptitiously scuttling around; presumably to sweep up dialogue that has fallen flat.

Somewhere in there is a gem of a story. It is the stuff of dreams, quite literally. Some may argue that the dream is closer than we think, but whatever way you look at it the textural landscape is a goldmine. “One Small Step” even has a cow on the moon (I wonder if it jumped over it first), which bizarrely mirrors the elephant in the room for the play’s protagonists. There are moments of humour in Kato’s script, which the actors do successfully seize upon. We want more of this – the lightness of touch lends more weight to the message, and we pay more attention.

A live camera feed projects the actors in close-up onto overhead screens. There is perhaps a reason for this beyond the bandwagon that Kato (who also directs) has jumped on. But, like the other choices made, it is lost in translation. We should be getting lost in the story but, as much as the pair’s fine performance draws us in, we are kept outside of their inner circle. Which is a shame as the issues are universal.

The moon belongs to nobody (despite the American flag up there). For now, at least, it belongs to anybody. The dreams, stories, ambitions and desires it has inspired belong to everybody. “One Small Step” has the potential to latch onto those visions, embracing the human problems inherent in mankind’s grand objectives. Yet it remains a small step, and needs more thrust to achieve lift off.

MARIE CURIE – THE MUSICAL at Charing Cross Theatre

★★★

“The music is the highlight, even though it often feels it belongs to another story.”

Marie Curie, née Maria Salomea Sklodowska, is remembered for her discovery of radium and polonium (the latter named after her native Poland); and for her huge contribution to finding treatments for cancer. The latter is what she is generally celebrated for, along with the hospital and charity that bear her name. Less is probably known about her years of obsessive scientific research and the opposition and misogyny she faced while trying to get her name onto the periodic table. The science goes over most people’s heads, whereas the enduring image is of Marie, buttoned up to the neck in black, gazing unsmiling into the camera.

An unlikely subject for a musical. But composer Jongyoon Choi and librettist Seeun Choun obviously decided to give it a go. After making the finals of the ‘Glocal Musical Live’ competition in Korea it secured funding and eventually premiered in Seoul in 2018. Apparently, Tom Ramsay’s English adaptation (with lyrics translated by Emma Fraser) marks the first time a Korean musical is staged in English.

There are elements to this musical that would have many a physicist scratching their head. Its essence is not instantly discoverable despite condensing Marie’s story into a one act musical. It concentrates on her relocation to Paris, charting her struggle to fit into a man’s world. The narrative follows her research and discoveries, the adverse and tragic effects of these discoveries and the subsequent battles against corporate baddies. The love interest is supplied by fellow scientist and husband, Pierre Curie, although it is a bit of a cold fusion. The passion is reserved for the chemical elements, with love songs titled ‘Radium Paradise’ (parts one and two no less). In fact, the show could have been called ‘Radium: The Musical’.

It opens at the end with Marie’s daughter, Irène (Lucy Young), reading her mother’s memoirs while Ailsa Davidson’s spectral, black-clad Marie watches. Davidson’s fine, pure voice sits well on the lush strings of the prologue as she guides the story back to the start. Rose Montgomery’s changeable set is with her every step of the way, from the train carriage as it pulls into Paris, to the laboratories and the factories. On the journey, Marie meets fellow Pole, Anne Kowalska (Chrissie Bhima), a lowly factory worker who later becomes the voice of justice and moral reasoning. It takes a while to get there, though, with the bulk of the show comprising a song cycle leading up to Marie’s discovery of radium.

The tone darkens when the destructive side of radium manifests itself. Initially used as luminous paint for watches and clock dials, the painters were instructed to lick their brushes to give them a fine point. It didn’t take long for this practice to lead to a sharp peak in the death rate among the workers. Covered up as a syphilis outbreak (did they really think they could get away with that?), the factory boss (Richard Meek) finds himself at loggerheads with Marie.

It is refreshing to see the story focus on a relatively short time span rather than attempting to create an epic chronicle of the woman’s life. It lends a human touch, steering the piece away from docudrama. Marie’s later years and achievements are glossed over during the finale. We might not learn a great deal that we already didn’t know but instead we are joyously swept along by Jongyoon Choi’s sumptuous score, rich in violins, cellos and clarinet. The music is the highlight, even though it often feels it belongs to another story. Choi’s compositions are indeed stirring, yet the lyrics and subject matter don’t always echo the passion.

The passion, however, is undeniable in the performances, and we also come away with some pertinent reminders of the historical struggle of women with a society against them. But despite the beauty of the score, and Emma Fraser’s arrangements, there is a sense that this story belongs more to the spoken word.

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

★★

“Milla Clarke’s slowly revolving set reflects a narrative going round in circles”

ONE SMALL STEP at the Charing Cross Theatre

Reviewed on 1st October 2024

by Jonathan Evans

Photography by Mark Senior

Previously reviewed at this venue:

ONE SMALL STEP

ONE SMALL STEP

MARIE CURIE – THE MUSICAL at Charing Cross Theatre

★★★

“The music is the highlight, even though it often feels it belongs to another story.”