Book, Music, and Lyrics: Dave Malloy
Director: Tim Sheader
Natasha is young, Sonya is good, Anatole is hot, and Pierre is…kind of a mess. A frenzied, gripping, and vocally lethal prologue staples Tim Sheader’s postindustrial take on Dave Malloy’s modern classic, Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812. Donmar Warehouse becomes Moscow in what is now home to one of the best casts in all of current London theatre, unquestionably.
The show’s opener, in a sort of rapid-fire polka, assigns each character a single trait along with their introduction. Natasha (Chumisa Dornford-May) is young and recently engaged to Andrey, who, as the ensemble repeats with each of the prologue’s many verses, is not here. Dornford-May’s vocals are delicate and precise, shining from within an unbelievably consistent team. In a hedonistic, simultaneously post- and pre-war Moscow, though, temptation is heavy in the air when Natasha arrives.
Anatole (Jamie Muscato) is hot, and he knows it. Muscato redefines the confident role with shattering vocals. Seductive (married) Anatole sets his sights on (also betrothed) Natasha in a Shakespearean forbidden romance. A naive girl thrust into a bassy city of sex and substance, the plot revolves around her potential affair with a player Romeo.
And then there’s Pierre (Declan Bennett). Married lovelessly to a prostitute yet faithfully bound by a strange moral compass, Pierre pines for the love he’ll never have while the world around him drowns itself in liquor and dread. Declan Bennet is the phantom romantic, sweetly serenading with Malloy’s ominous or urgent tracks.
It’s impossible to capture the talent of Great Comet’s cast so briefly, with each member breathing life into Malloy’s incredible score. The songs are often formless or dissonant, bending genres and musical standards. The cacophonous ensemble numbers are proven by smooth, dramatic ballads before both are interrupted by thumping club scenes. This is not an album of pop or rock songs; this is a story told through masterful note-writing and execution. Balaga is not just for fun; Cedric Neal is a dominatrix icon anytime he’s on stage. Every actor, bar none, is flamboyant and pitch-perfect, which the material demands.
The Donmar’s Great Comet is not going to mesmerise everybody. In its abstract rawness, it does lack in setting and traditional vibe. There’s nearly no set aside from a colossal “MOSCOW” sign and a catwalk, with the occasional appearance of a crate. The costumes are eclectic and spot-on for each character, but bold departures from recent productions. Considering the angle, though, it all just works. Sheader’s production evokes Cabaret from 1993, also at Donmar; an abstract but confident departure from tradition with a phenomenal cast, a cult classic for those not too attached to a more concrete rendition. Tim Sheader’s Great Comet is a gloves-off, no-frills show that will undoubtedly be the definitive edition for many. This production is risky but a rare theatrical triumph nonetheless.
Runs until 8 February 2025
