Matthew Murphy
Lila Coogan (Anya) in the national tour of Anastasia.
According to historians, members of Russia’s last royal family, the Romanovs, were executed by their Bolshevik captors in 1918 as revolution gripped the country. But in the years following, rumors began to circulate that one child had escaped: the 17-year-old Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolavna, and more than 20 women came forward, claiming to be the princess.
This popular myth became Anastasia, a musical animated film by Don Bluth (An American Tail, The Land Before Time), with a score by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens (Ragtime, Once on this Island). And, like many classic cartoons, the film Anastasia has since been retooled for the stage, with 16 new musical numbers added by the original composition team. It ran for two years on Broadway. Now Madison audiences can see the story of a missing princess, a heartbroken grandmother, two charming con men, and a ruthless Soviet officer, set in the last days of the Russian Empire and the roaring 1920s in Paris.
The touring production of Anastasia opened an eight-show run at Overture Center on July 30 to an appreciative crowd. This pleasant, overstuffed musical tries to fit the mold of uber-popular Disney princess productions, but never approaches that level of charm or fantasy. With a collage of plot points from a dozen other fairy tales and musicals, overwhelming visuals and an ambivalence about its tone, the musical Anastasia echoes history — a lot of people want to believe in something extraordinary that turns out to be a disappointment.
The show begins with a flashback to the end of the Romanov family’s reign, marked with stunning white, gold and glittering traditional costumes, crowns studded with sparkling jewels, and gala balls that look like a snow globe fantasy come to life (costume design by Linda Cho). There we meet Little Anastasia (played alternatively by young performers Delilah Rose Pellow and Addison Mackynzie Valentino) and the Dowager Empress (Joy Franz, whose characterization veers to melodrama and whose voice is not up to delivering her solos).
Quickly that idyllic scene is smashed by the Bolsheviks. Citizens are miserable and starving under the new government, so it’s easy to embrace a rogue pair of con men who decide to invent an Anastasia look-alike, bring her to Paris, and collect the large reward that the Dowager Empress is offering.
Edward Staudenmayer brings a mischievous glint in his eye, a warm heart, a flair for physical comedy and a gorgeous voice to the role of Vlad, the jovial veteran of many swindles. His young co-conspirator, Dmitry (Stephen Brower), is learning the ropes, but more importantly, he’s the idealistic love interest for the title character. Brower brings a rough-edged voice and appropriate world weariness to the commoner from the streets who falls — twice — for a royal who’s out of his league.
As the villain and frustrated love interest, Gleb, Jason Michel Evans is strangled by his poorly conceived character. Despite being able to reach vocally, Evans is stuck in a one-note role, a junior operative with a Javert-like determination to kill the last Romanov.
Lila Coogan employs her bright, straightforward soprano in an attempt to be the heroine the audience is longing for. Her Anya begins as a ringer for Cosette/Cinderella, with her big dreams of a better life, shabby clothes and long golden hair tumbling from under a drab scarf. Then under Vlad and Dmitry’s tutelage, she morphs into Eliza Doolittle, working to memorize her lessons on becoming a royal lady. Coogan is good at conveying Anya’s pluck — fending off bad guys with a hot poker and a ferocious yell. Her tone is appropriately melancholic as she sings “Stay I Pray You.” Then she triumphs in Paris, donning a rich garnet ball gown to rival a holiday Barbie. But the script lets her character down, too, with an unsupported, anticlimactic ending.
In addition to problems with the basic story, the musical’s structure doesn’t help engage audiences. Crammed full of confessional songs that explain what each character is feeling, the show never develops any momentum. And despite its marketing, the end result is not really appropriate for children. Many youngsters seated around me were bored and confused at intermission, and the overwhelmingly dark tone of the first act didn’t encourage the adults with them to explain the finer points of firing squads, prostitutes, the expatriate intelligentsia or the black market.
And then there’s the aggressively jarring look and feel of the production. Aaron Rhyne’s often- overpowering videos and projections are disjointed and dated. Some are realistic picture postcards of famous Russian and French landmarks. Others, such as the interior of the government office, are surrealistic and foreboding. A train ride through the countryside resembles amateurish computer animation unworthy of a video game. In yet another visual style, the projection of a blood red flood of color interrupted by soldiers’ black silhouettes looks like a propaganda poster. And scenes where the characters’ journeys are marked on colorful, complex maps are literally dizzying. Finally, the horror movie/Haunted Mansion spooky effects of the Romanov ghosts swirling about is also difficult to square with the rest of the production.
In the end, Anastasia is a hodgepodge of graphics and stories that is much more confusing than transporting for audiences.
