Review by Sam Waite
⭐️⭐️
When Elizabeth Zott, heroine of Bonnie Garmus’ Lessons in Chemistry asks another character to name a female scientist of note, she is quick to add a condition, “and don’t say Madame Curie.” So known was Mrs Curie, so influential and pioneering, that decades on from her death she is still the female face of science to many. Following six years of try-outs, workshops, and productions closer to home, South Korean musical Marie Curie expands further on her fame, and on her infamy, with an English-language debut at the Charing Cross Theatre.
The show begins after Curie’s passing, with one of her daughters pondering her mother’s choice of obituary – she was a genius, a legend, the only person to win Nobel Prizes in two different sciences, but her simple sign-off to life reflects none of it. As the daughter pores over her mother’s things, including a journal explaining how she came to live the extraordinary life she did, things become clearer. Marie left Poland as a young woman to study in France, making a lifelong friend on the train in Anne Kowalska, and eventually uniting with future-husband Pierre Curie as both partners in science and in marriage.
Ailsa Davidson, best known to many for her turn as Heathers’ Veronica Sawyer, demonstrates new shades to the strong belt that earned her that previous role. Equal parts girlish and ferocious, her Marie carries herself with a stubborn grace, and the subtle emotional shifts under her workaholism do a great deal to shade in the characters’ unseen history. At times her voice soars into Disney princess territories, a beautiful instrument that reminds us that Marie Curie was still young and hopeful when her legendary work began. Decked out in her black dress and a pair of Doc Martens (perhaps a slight anachronism, or perhaps me doubting how old some brands are) she certainly looks the part of the deadly serious Curie, while managing to radiate a warmth that helps to sell both the marriage and the decades-long friendship.
As Anna Kowalska, Chrissie Bhima is immediately arresting and offers her own strong, darker-toned voice to the score to balance Davidson’s princess-esque belts. As the one to realise the Radium Marie has discovered may be more than the miracle find it seems, and in fact may be behind the debilitating illnesses and deaths passed off as syphilis plaguing those who work with it, her desperation absolutely rings true. It’s just a shame that Kowalska, like the rest of the cast, falls so easily to the side in a script that seems unsure of what to do with any of them. Even Pierre, played by Thomas Josling, fails to make any real impression and seems to serve only as another step for Marie to take.
It's difficult to say whether this cold, detached feeling towards the ensemble of characters is the fault of Seeun Choun’s original text, or of translation and adaptation from Ahreumbi Rew and Tom Ramsey. English lyrics are provided by musical director Emma Fraser, and the show largely relies on her for any emotional weight as the unbroken hundred minutes are tightly packed with more than 20 musical numbers. Where some music-heavy sections can serve to provide information and movement without stopping the story for a round of exposition, here it becomes almost funny just how little is said before someone starts to sing again – a single line of dialogue, in at least one instant, precedes another full-length song.
It feels like I would do a disservice to Madame Curie’s memory to not mention a major gripe I had with the plot itself. For all that is implied, particularly when a Nobel Prize seemingly earned by Marie is credited first to Pierre and then to her additionally, Marie never seems to truly encounter the misogyny of her times. Yes, plenty is made early on of her and Anna’s separate but contrasted struggles as Polish immigrants, but we are apparently to believe that her being a woman only mildly slowed Marie, and that any criticism seen (such as her being accused of neglect as a mother while pursuing her work) was minor enough to appear only as throwaway lines or suggestions.
The score itself, courtesy of Choun, is often familiar but rarely in a warm or desirable fashion. From early notes almost resembling Sunday in the Park’s pointillism motif, to Disney princess solos, to a sisterly duet that sounds remarkably like two good friends (two best friends) reflecting that they may not have been changed for the better, but certainly for good. This is not to accuse anyone of theft, of course, but merely to note that Marie Curie falls just a touch too often into the contemporary musical pitfall of trying to write like your influences and to appeal to your fellow fans, but ending up sounding lacklustre and less memorable as a result. Joanna Goodwin, choreographer for this production, is underutilised and unable to show her abilities – only two major moments of movement come to mind, and one is so out of place during an emotional solo that it was hard to absorb whether the dancing was good when it was so painfully misplaced.
Sarah Meadows’ direction is largely solid in terms of blocking and the pace of the work. Her actors move swiftly through and around Rose Montgomery’s impressive and malleable set with it always being clear where they are going and what qualifies as a change in locale. Try as she might, placing cast members atop the moveable staircase or framing them in the windows above, she is unfortunately unable to unearth any real depth in the characters beyond Marie, the material itself too sternly pushing against any attempts she may have made.
A disappointing attempt to celebrate a woman who is still an icon of her field so long after her passing, Marie Curie proves to have surprisingly little to say about such an influential figure. While I do wonder what may have been lost in translation, with the work having gone from strength to strength over the past 10 years in its original Korean, I unfortunately find myself unable to recommend this sleek, well-constructed but entirely underwhelming musical as it stands – there’s a better show in there, perhaps one beginning later in Curie’s life or with an interval and more time for scenes to breathe.
Marie Curie runs at the Charing Cross Theatre until July 28th
For tickets and information visit https://charingcrosstheatre.co.uk/theatre/marie-curie
Photos by Pamela Raith