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DR ZHIVAGO
Review

DR ZHIVAGO

February 23 2011

DR ZHIVAGO – the musical, Lyric Theatre, from 20 February; Her Majesty’s Theatre, Melbourne from April 12; QPAC Brisbane later. Photos: Kurt Sneddon.

ROMANCE, revolution, tragedy, betrayal, love, loss and redemption. Themes don’t come much more stirring than these and they’re all in Boris Pasternak’s famous novel, first published in Europe in 1957 and finally – and officially – in Russia in 1988, although he began writing it decades earlier. As a source for adaptation it has almost too much going for it. As high-class, middlebrow entertainment David Lean made the most of the book’s lofty reputation and popular appeal – while relying heavily on the love story, Julie Christie, her indelible Lara’s Theme by Maurice Jarre, and Omar Sharif’s liquid-seduction eyes. The movie, released in 1965, was a huge international success, scored 10 Oscar nominations and won five. It was banned in Russia, however, and not released there for many years.

On top of that, because of a political landscape that straddles the spectrum from White to Red Russia, from wild hope to deep despair, Dr Zhivago’s significance in literary history is immense. It was the catalyst for Pasternak’s Nobel Prize – to the Kremlin’s great displeasure – and its underlying motifs of individualism over collectivism and freedom over autocracy, are potent all over again as Putin’s hold on Russia and the rise of the oligarchs ever more closely resemble the totalitarianism of the past.

All the above to highlight the daunting mountain that stands in the path of anyone who decides to turn the book into musical theatre. It’s also a material mountain: there is an awful lot of plot, history and shattering human events to cram into an evening in the theatre. By and large, the show now gracing the Lyric Theatre has achieved it. The book, by Michael Weller, is true to the story without being slavish and you don’t have to know the novel nor be an expert in Russian history to figure out what’s going on. The lyrics, by Michael Korie and Amy Powers are at best serviceable and otherwise, lean towards trite. Lucy Simon’s music deserves better. Her score is a fine balance of operatic-ballad with hints of familiarity that start you humming; and the company and soloists relish it.

The Australian cast in this world premiere production is as good as it gets and as good as we’ve come to expect. It’s led from the front by Anthony Warlow as the doctor-poet Zhivago, with Peter Carroll and Trisha Noble in vital semi-cameo roles that anchor the production through sheer experience and excellence. They’re ably supported by Taneel van Zyl as Zhivago’s sad wife Tonia and Bartholomew John as Lara’s sugar daddy-lover and slippery mafioso, Viktor Komarovsky.

Lucy Maunder as Zhivago’s great love Lara, and Martin Crewes as her husband-turned-avenger Pasha Antipov are the breakthrough stars of the show. Maunder is convincing as the woman who has three powerful men in her thrall; and even more, that Zhivago’s wife Tonia comes to understand and accept why. And all this against the odds, because Lara’s part is so underwritten it leaves Maunder in the lurch at crucial moments; for instance, what should be a scene of enormous significance – her shooting of Komarovsky – is sketchy and perfunctory.

Pasha Antipov is a much better realised character and Crewes grabs him with both hands and is splendid: fiery, scary and vital. He leaves you with a niggling feeling that he would actually make a terrific Zhivago; particularly opposite Maunder. They are obviously of an age and Warlow is obviously not. If Lara suddenly started singing “My Heart Belongs to Daddy” it wouldn’t be too surprising.

DR ZHIVAGO

The other problem with the book is its somewhat wayward attitude to history. Whichever way you look at it, Dr Zhivago is grand tragedy and sweeping drama, there isn’t a frivolous bone in its body. This isn’t a criticism, but it does mean that caricaturing the Red functionaries is out of place and detracts from rather than enhances the story’s emotional trajectory. Enough is coloured in, in scenes leading up to the Revolution, to remind us that Russians suffered horribly under the Tsars, and the people were desperately deserving of something else. That the revolution quickly turned vicious and stupid (ie Stalinist) and plunged the republics into even greater horror and despair was monumentally tragic – and if portrayed that way, would add immensely to the show. The Reaganite portrayal of the evil commissars as strutting fools might work from an American perspective but actually belittles the misery of generations of Russians and, ironically, does the same to the show.

This is a work in progress, however, and there is already enough to make a memorable night’s entertainment. But it could be so much better if the book, in particular, is attended to and the lyrics given a tickle of higher intelligence. Michael Scott Mitchell’s set design (lighting Damien Cooper) is astonishingly versatile and good to look at (given that it so accurately depicts the stolid monumentalism of so much Russian public architecture!) and works well in almost every respect. A better way of depicting the railway train sequences should be on the list of Things To Do, however, at the moment the structure could be a pontoon, bit of bridge or slab of deconstructed Lubianka; the idea of a train doesn’t come through.

The intermittent projected B&W images also need a think, particularly the first one. It depicts a semi-nude Lara preparing for bed and, presumably, deflowering. As Maunder is simultaneously downstage singing her heart out, the distraction value is considerable, tacky and unnecessary. It’s also disconcerting as the drape of the curtain/screen distorts her breast and turns it into a fair facsimile of an intercontinental ballistic missile as seen in May Day parades: sniggers are not needed at this otherwise touching moment. Other images – historic photographs of peasants, revolutionaries, soldiers and so on – work well to augment the story and on-stage ensembles; more rather than fewer might be trialed. Nevertheless, it’s a handsome show with glorious, evocative costumes (Teresa Negroponte) and sharply paced direction by Des McAnuff with choreography by Kelly Devine.

In the world of musical theatre the reported budget of $5.5m is chicken feed, (Spiderman has probably spent that in a week and apparently is still a disaster) yet Dr Zhivago is lavish looking, rich in talent and is a night out to remember – if the great sweep of history and grand tragic romance are your thing. And some day soon Maunder and Crewes will be Broadway- or West End-bound.

 

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