The Anastasia Musical: A Fairy Tale with a Footnote to History

The current Broadway production of Anastasia has been met with generally favorable reviews for its spectacle and entertainment value. However, one cannot help but feel a sense of disconnection between the lavish production and the historical events it attempts to dramatize.

The story of Anastasia, the putative daughter of Tsar Nicholas II who supposedly survived the family’s execution by the Bolsheviks in 1918, is a familiar one. It has been retold in various forms over the years, from the 1956 Ingrid Bergman film to the 1997 animated Disney film that served as the basis for this stage adaptation.

What is striking, however, is how each iteration of Anastasia’s story tends to downplay or eliminate the complexities and brutal realities of the Russian Revolution. The current production, like its predecessors, presents a sanitized and romanticized version of history. The Bolsheviks are portrayed as cartoonish villains, while Gleb, the Stalinist apparatchik who serves as the main antagonist, is given more nuance than his predecessors but ultimately falls short of being a fully fleshed-out character.

The Russian Revolution was not simply a matter of peasants rising up against their monarchic oppressors, but rather a complex web of social and economic factors that culminated in one of the most significant events of the 20th century. By focusing on the fantastical elements of Anastasia’s story – her supposed survival, her amnesia, her ultimate discovery as the lost Grand Duchess – the musical glosses over the very real consequences of the Romanov dynasty’s downfall.

The peasants who starved under the Romanovs, the families torn apart by revolution and counter-revolution, the countless lives lost in the bloodbath that followed: these are the stories that get lost in the fairy tale version of Anastasia. This tendency to mythologize and simplify complex historical events is not unique to Anastasia; many stage musicals have a way of distilling history into crowd-pleasing, if occasionally inaccurate, narratives.

However, what makes Anastasia particularly egregious is its failure to acknowledge the broader context in which it takes place. Despite these criticisms, the production values are indeed high, with impressive sets, costumes, and dance numbers that transport the audience to a bygone era. Georgina Hopson shines as Anya, while Nancye Hayes brings her usual gravitas to the role of the Dowager Empress.

As the current production draws to a close in Brisbane, it is worth pondering what this musical says about our collective relationship with history. Do we prefer our historical events packaged in neat, easily digestible narratives, rather than confronting the messy complexities and nuances of the past? Or do we have a responsibility as storytellers to strive for greater accuracy and nuance, even if it means sacrificing some of the entertainment value?

The fact that Anastasia continues its tour around the world suggests that audiences are willing to settle for a sanitized version of history. One can only hope that future productions will take a more nuanced approach to this complex and multifaceted subject matter.