The Lost Princess Myth: A Tone-Deaf Musical That Misses the Mark
The tragic tale of Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov, executed alongside her family during the 1918 Bolshevik Revolution, has long captivated imaginations. Despite overwhelming evidence of her demise, the myth of her survival persists, fueling countless stories, from cheap historical fiction to animated films. But here's where it gets controversial: the 2017 Broadway musical Anastasia, now touring Australia, reduces this complex historical tragedy to a glittering, superficial spectacle, leaving audiences with little to ponder beyond tiaras and ballroom gowns.
Based on the 1997 animated film, with music by Stephen Flaherty and lyrics by Lynn Ahrens, this adaptation follows the familiar—and entirely fictional—narrative of Anastasia (Georgina Hopson) surviving the revolution, suffering amnesia, and embarking on a journey to discover her true identity. Along the way, she’s aided by two charming con artists, Dmitry (Robert Tripolino) and Vlad (Rodney Dobson), who plan to pass her off as the lost princess. Pursued by the zealous Bolshevik general Gleb Vaganov (Joshua Robson), the trio heads to Paris to meet Anastasia’s grandmother, the empress dowager (Nancye Hayes).
And this is the part most people miss: while the story could have been a powerful exploration of history, identity, and the human cost of revolution, it instead opts for Disney-esque sentimentality and spectacle. The Romanovs, whose reign was marked by staggering wealth and widespread poverty, are portrayed as innocent victims of Bolshevik aggression. The family’s opulent lifestyle and the suffering of their citizens are barely acknowledged, let alone critiqued. Instead, we’re treated to a superficial tale of a young woman ‘finding herself’ in a city she’s never lived in, all while historical nuance is sacrificed for feel-good platitudes.
The production’s lavish costumes by Linda Cho and lighting by Donald Holder evoke the grandeur of imperial Russia and the glamour of Paris, but these elements are undermined by jarring projections (Aaron Rhone) that feel cluttered and uninspired. Props, like a key Fabergé music box, come across as cheap and unconvincing, further detracting from the intended opulence. Even the music, which attempts to blend Russian folk and Parisian chanson, feels contrived and repetitive.
While Rhonda Burchmore shines as the vivacious Countess Lily, and Nancye Hayes brings gravitas to the empress dowager, the casting of Georgina Hopson as Anastasia feels mismatched. Her performance lacks the effortless charm and vulnerability the role demands, and her vocals often fall short. The creative team behind Ragtime, a musical celebrated for its historical depth and precision, seems to have lost their magic touch here.
But here’s the real question: Why does an Australian production about Russian history feel so dominated by American cultural imperialism? Why do Russian characters speak with American accents, and why does the music sound more like Broadway than St. Petersburg or Paris? This tone-deaf celebration of privilege feels uncomfortably out of place in today’s world, where inequality and historical accountability are at the forefront of global conversations.
As the curtain falls, one can’t help but wonder: Is this the story we should be telling? Or are we simply perpetuating a myth that glosses over the complexities of history? Let’s discuss—what do you think? Is Anastasia a harmless escapist fantasy, or does it miss an opportunity to engage with the past in a meaningful way?
