'Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812' review — this wildly creative musical based on Tolstoy's novel makes history sizzling hot

Read our review of Dave Malloy's Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812, now in performances at the Donmar Warehouse to 8 February 2025.

If your heart sinks at the prospect of a musical based on Tolstoy’s mammoth War and Peace, fear not. Dave Malloy’s gonzo, knowing, blisteringly funny and wildly creative chamber opera only takes one small section of the novel, and although it is undoubtedly, excitingly ambitious, this big-hearted show invites the audience into his dazzling world.

That happens right away with the irreverent prologue, which introduces all the characters with brisk efficiency (each gets a defining trait) and sympathetic asides like “It’s a complicated Russian novel / Everyone’s got nine different names”. If Tolstoy had thought of this strategy, I might have made it through his tome the first time, or maybe the second.

Rather like Hamilton, Great Comet presents these characters not as solemn, dusty historic figures, but in terms we can understand. They’re young, impulsive, selfish, and downright horny. They shop, party, get into fights (or duels). Our heroine Natasha, who is staying with her godmother in Moscow, pines for her soldier fiancé Andrey but doesn’t really understand what love is, making her an easy mark for bored rich kid Anatole.

Malloy’s Tony-winning sung-through musical, originally directed by Rachel Chavkin, was a hit both off and on Broadway in 2012 and 2016. British audiences have had an interminable wait for a transfer – oddly, since this cleverly eclectic material, an audacious postmodern spin on a classic, feels like an absolute natural for London theatre (and a great pairing with Chavkin’s Hadestown).

But, now helmed by artistic director Timothy Sheader – who is having a phenomenal opening season – Great Comet proves a delightful fit for the Donmar. Sheader emphasises the material’s grungy, sleazy, punk vibe. Evie Gurney’s contemporary costumes feature more leather, fur and PVC than the rest of Soho combined.

The centrepiece of Leslie Travers’ set is a giant ring of lights on the ceiling that sometimes descends to effectively crowd the characters together – as when they’re packed into boxes at the opera. Howard Hudson’s gleefully multi-hued lighting constantly shifts the mood like an expressive disco – often exhilarating, sometimes poignant. A flash of bulbs signals panic for the ageing Prince (Andrey’s nasty dad) when he fumbles for his glasses.

However, the most luminous element by far is the fantastic cast and onstage band laying into Malloy’s magpie score, which brilliantly fuses Slavic folk with EDM, rock-pop, jazz, and yearning ballads. The recitative has narrative purpose, while slyly revealing character: take the strained, musically discordant meeting between Natasha and her prospective sister-in-law, Princess Mary.

Chumisa Dornford-May’s Natasha has attitude and self-possession, but fatally misinterprets her emotional response to people as sound judgement. Maimuna Memon, as her loyal cousin/bestie Sonya, breaks your heart with her soulful lament (her distinctive voice is a gorgeous match with the material), while Cat Simmons also nails her solo as the predatory, leopard print-wearing Hélène prowls around Natasha like a jungle cat.

Annette McLaughlin is a savvy operator as Natasha’s godmother, Cedric Neal is an absolute blast as driver Balaga, as is Daniel Krikler as the trigger-happy Dolkhov, and the sweet-voiced Chloe Saracco brings poignancy to Mary. But none can compete with Jamie Muscato’s vampiric, dissolute, rapacious seducer Anatole, a rock star with smudged guyliner, who gives a performance of towering charisma and alarming moral vacuity.

Title character Pierre, the self-pitying, purposeless scholar trapped in a terrible marriage, doesn’t register strongly until late on, when his story dovetails with Natasha’s. But Declan Bennett seizes that moment of awakening and imbues the exquisite finale with compassion, thankfulness, humility, and grace. It’s a light in the darkness: hope in this cold, dark winter.

Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 is at the Donmar Warehouse to 8 February 2025.

Photo credit: Natasha, Pierre & The Great Comet of 1812 (Photos by Johan Persson)