Alia Marshall
Pōneke is getting chilly as we usher in autumn, and I can feel the seasonal depression preparing a fold out chair to strike me with. Thankfully, Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 staged by WITCH Musical Theatre is the passionate, hot and sweaty tonic I’ve been searching for to warm my cockles. Originally performed on Broadway in 2012, this musical is based on part eight of Leo Tolstoy’s broody and dramatic novel War and Peace, written in 1869 - a book I’m only familiar with because when I was a teenager I would try to read it in cafes to look mysterious and hot. Described as "both the most innovative and the best new musical to open on Broadway since Hamilton,” this show blends the modern and the classical in a variety of clever ways. The slick mix of indie rock, Russian folk, and electro-pop is so fun that I’m listening to the original recording as I write this very review.
It’s hard to tell when the show starts because the actors are milling about the stage chatting with each other and audience members alike, which really helps make it feel like we’re in a club. Eventually, the lights dim and we’re treated to the Prologue, introducing us to all of the characters - which is super helpful considering the massive cast. The story goes as follows: young Natasha (Lane Corby) has gone to Moscow to wait for her beloved Andrey (Glen Horsfall) to return from the war, however when she meets the mysterious rogue Anatole (Henry Ashby), it’s up to Pierre (Willian Duignan), an old family friend in the middle of an existential crisis, to pick up the pieces as he searches for meaning in his life. My friend described it as ‘the most dramatic of the War and Peace books’, and they were right, there’s so much drama it almost feels camp at times.
Each song is high energy, sardonic, and performed beautifully, and, my word, the costumes (Ben Tucker-Emerson). Cunt is being served in excess on that stage, the mixture of regency and modern dress makes for incredibly opulent silhouettes that I think Tolstoy and his comrades would’ve donned if they lived in the 21st century.
Now, as your faithful reviewer, I must be honest: I’ve always struggled with sung-through musicals. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Jesus Christ Superstar (enough to see it twice when I was 15), but most of the time I find it difficult to parse through the narrative or connect with the characters enough to leave with a lasting impact. The musical prowess of each person is undeniable, though at times I miss parts of the story because I can’t hear the vocals over the music (perhaps the result of being sat near a speaker or auditory processing issues on my end). But in saying that, I still had an absolute blast, and the one line of spoken dialogue really stands out in a sea of song.
Most of the critique I have is to do with the writing, which feels null and void because this is a pre-existing text which the cast and crew have produced wonderfully (however if the writer, Dave Malloy, ever sees this, get in touch). One thing I will say is despite the incredible refinement and caliber of the performances, I crave more moments of imperfection, which I’ll admit feels like a weird thing to ask for, but hear me out. Sonya (Àine Gallagher) performs a beautiful ballad (aptly titled ‘Sonya Alone’) in which she’s lamenting over Natasha’s poor decision making skills, and there’s these beautiful moments where her voice cracks, her face contorts, and her movements falter, which all add to her character’s desperation. I crave a few more moments where the passion interferes with the performance.
My favourite songs have to be ‘The Private and Intimate Life of the House’ and ‘Balaga’. The former is a duet between Old Prince Bolkonsky (Glenn Horsfall) and Mary (Rachel McSweeney) that highlights the relationship between the aging father and doting daughter; and the latter is a high energy folk tune about the infamous troika driver, Balega, who’s set to help the lovers elope. In the second half of the show, I’m lucky enough to be selected by Anatole and, despite knowing how deeply flawed he is, it feels magical to be chosen to go onstage with my little glass of wine to join the party, even for a brief moment. If you’ve read my reviews before, you know I love to be included.
Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 is like if the flamboyant Russians we read about in classical literature were cunt , which they were in their own regard. I think a Russian novel is the perfect thing to turn into a musical, from the broody laments about life, to the opulence of the aristocracy, it all drips with drama. I applaud WITCH Musical Theatre for their mahi on this mammoth of a show, and I implore you to go see it (wine is optional but strongly recommended).
Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 is on in the Hannah Playhouse until the 4th of May.