Review: THE PIANIST, Park Theatre

Władysław Szpilman’s extraordinary life became a sensation in 2002 with the release of Roman Polanski’s The Pianist. Based on Szpilman’s memoir, the film earned a variety of accolades, including three Academy Awards (Adrien Brody’s first). It made the Polish Jewish pianist figure beloved and revered worldwide, so it’s a surprise that we’ve had to wait 24 years for a musical adaptation to land on stage. Szpilman’s prose is rich with descriptions of occupied Poland during World War II – from narrowly avoiding deportation to the Treblinka extermination camp to surviving the Holocaust thanks to a German army captain’s taking a shine to his skills as a musician.

While both the film and the autobiography have entered our cultural heritage as testimonies of the Nazi era – the poverty it brought, its violence, its misery – this new rendition inhabits a different realm. Thom Southerland debuts Szpilman’s own compositions in an invariably morose piece of theatre that never finds its pace nor purpose. A team of actor-musicians revives Szpilman’s story, but this version of The Pianist struggles to securely grip the audience. Sutherland centralises the creative process, adapting and directing Szpilman’s book; this type of clustering is risky, and it doesn’t pay off on this occasion.

The general passivity of the key role leads to a lack of conflict, while his direct address removes any kind of interesting framing device. Szpilman (Dan Krikler) is a humble, frazzled young man devoted to music who’s very reticent when it comes to telling what happened to him. Krikler introduces a charismatic but emotionally flat personality who’s consistently poised and elegant – even at his lowest. Though his attitude is admirable, the narrative result is an apathetic and unchanging character arc. Things happen to him. He tells us about them. We carry on. In short, there’s no tension.

Southerland’s direction is static and ordinary, stunting the already melancholic and exceedingly tactful script. One of the most evident problems is that nothing much happens, visually. The performers orbit Krikler and the piano (who’s played by someone else entirely) while he explains circumstance after circumstance without stagecraft. The bottom line is, regrettably, this is all a bit boring. The gravity of Szpilman’s experience translates into a solemn, evocative, ponderous text, but the lyrics are extrinsic to it.

While music is essential to Szpilman’s being, it almost feels like this show doesn’t believe it can be a successful musical. Szpilman’s score and the harmonies that it generates are undeniably beautiful. The words that have been superimposed, however, are instantly banal and repetitive. Furthermore, the songs don’t transport the action and become a mere afterthought. The genre is also muddy: Southerland gives everything a sort of folk-ish vibe, in spite of the classical vein of Szpilman’s own work. Andrzej Goudling’s reflects this in the set design as a slate of worn wooden boards against which the stage traffic unfolds. 

A solid ensemble of multi-instrumentalists joins Kirkler. Fundamental to the scene, Malcolm Forbes-Peckham is the unnamed piano virtuoso, who delivers Szpilman’s forgotten melodies wordlessly throughout. The rest of the company circumscribes the main instrument with various degrees of distinction. In spite of their large number, depending on the moment, the space is too crowded or not crammed enough. It’s virtually as if the project can’t decide whether it wants to be a monumental celebration of Szpilman as a survivor or a blithe retelling of his hardships. More attention to the dramaturgy and a handful of better choices should save this uninspiring footnote of a show.

The Pianist runs at the Park Theatre until 28 November.

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