When Dave Malloy’s electro-pop opera “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812” burst onto Broadway in 2016, in a dazzlingly immersive production that cost upwards of $14 million and featured the total transformation of the Imperial Theatre, it immediately drew comparisons to Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop musical “Hamilton,” which had catapulted into the cultural zeitgeist just the year prior.
Both shows are ambitiously sprawling in their scope. Both reach backwards in history for their inspiration. And both were written by a pair of talented and fast-rising theatremakers, who each introduced new sounds to the ever evolving genre of the American musical.
But the next “Hamilton” “The Great Comet” is not, no matter what some overzealous New York critics might have proclaimed.
Whereas Miranda’s masterpiece is slick, scrappy and sonically sophisticated, “The Great Comet,” which opened Tuesday at the Royal Alexandra Theatre, buckles under its bloated pretension, favouring breadth over depth, spectacle over any semblance of emotional sincerity.
Based on a 70-page slice of Tolstoy’s “War and Peace,” Malloy’s modern pop opera is dense, twisty and filled with melodrama. As the ensemble sings in the musical’s jaunty opening number: “Gonna have to study up a little bit / If you wanna keep with the plot.” No kidding.
At its centre is Natasha (Hailey Gillis), a haplessly romantic countess whose husband-to-be, Andrey (Marcus Nance), is off at war. She and her cousin, Sonya (a luminous Vanessa Sears), eagerly await his return as they stay at the home of Natasha’s godmother, Marya (Louise Pitre).
But the allure of 19th-century, high society Russia soon becomes too much to bear, and Natasha finds herself seduced by the strapping young prince Anatole (George Krissa), a hedonistic womanizer.
Meanwhile, Pierre (Evan Buliung), who happens to be Anatole’s brother-in-law, is an awkward misfit. He mostly wastes his days alone at home, contemplating his broken marriage with Hélène (Divine Brown).
Buliung lends gravitas to the role, his deep voice capturing Pierre’s hopeless, brooding existence. Gillis is sensational, as well, offering welcome depth to a character that, as written, feels like a caricature of a young Russian ingenue. Another standout, in an egregiously underwritten part: Heeyun Park, a wondrously emotive performer, as Andrey’s sister, Mary.
But much of the rest of this Canadian company tend to push their vocal performances too far at the expense of clear storytelling. (Brian Kenny’s occasionally muddled sound design, paired with some actors’ lack of enunciation, rendered lyrics unintelligible on opening night.)
This musical excess, however, is par for the course for “The Great Comet.” Malloy’s flashy material, almost entirely sung through, spreads itself far too thin to leave a lasting impact. Natasha remains a hazy protagonist throughout, while Pierre’s story is all but an afterthought.
The issue here is that Malloy affords too many songs to his secondary characters. Instead of expressing their innermost thoughts, Natasha and Pierre are mostly passive figures left standing onstage. Instead of singing, they’re left largely to be sung to. (Natasha, in particular, desperately needs her own solo in the second act.)
There’s also an aggravating emotional hollowness at the centre of “The Great Comet.” Part of that is due to how the piece is constructed. Malloy’s excessive use of operatic recitatives and narration frequently draw the audience out of the story.
All this could be resolved if Malloy’s score leaned more into its electro-pop roots, with propulsive rhythms that drive the story forward. But instead, he ends up employing too many plaintive ballads, slowing the narrative down and priming the audience for a kick of sentimentality that never arrives.
Director Chris Abraham’s production, which originated at Crow’s Theatre two seasons ago, is rhapsodic, energetic and more than fills the 1,200-seat Royal Alexandra Theatre. (For the best view, consider sitting in the front mezzanine or mid- to rear-orchestra.)
Julie Fox and Joshua Quinlan’s two-storey set, featuring onstage seating and a rotating platform at its centre, evokes a swanky nightclub. Kimberly Purtell’s pulsating lighting designs add to this mood. So too does Ray Hogg’s rollicking choreography, which often spills into the aisles. (You might be asked to join in on the action.)
But while it’s easy to give into the dizzying energy of this production, especially when it loses its inhibition, the material of Malloy’s electro-pop opera rarely makes a similar impression. It might be cool to look at initially, but this “Great Comet” soon burns up into oblivion.
