Marcel on the Train Off-Broadway Reviews

Stories about people trying to distract children in dreadful times are very tricky — it’s hard not to think of such films as Roberto Benigni’s “Life Is Beautiful” (1997) or the cult fascination for Jerry Lewis’s unreleased “The Day the Clown Cried” — because they have to broker the uneasy coexistence of entertainment, pathos and sentiment. It’s a problem “Marcel on the Train” does not solve, maybe because Marcel himself is an enigma here, and his drives remain opaque.

While the story has been told before, perhaps most notably in the 2020 film Resistance with Jesse Eisenberg, Slater and Pailet were right to realize its inherent stage potential. It’s realized to a point, though their approach at times leans into broad comedy that misunderstands the sensibilities of its subject.

The onstage conductor is, of course, Slater, who’s known as a SpongeBob SquarePants Tony Award nominee and Boq in the Wicked movies. With expressive eyes and liquid limbs, he embodies his role with physical and emotional chops alike. He summons our full attention whether speaking or deftly going through the motions.

But the frame of the play is the train ride, and the longer it went on, the more it felt to me like a children’s adventure story, albeit one not suitable for children. (The production is recommended for age 13+.) This is largely, I think, because the dialogue is neither as natural nor as precise as the physical movement, and because each of the children is a type.

As he proved in SpongeBob SquarePants and more recently in the Wicked movies, Slater has a real gift for movement. Marcel on the Train gives him ample opportunity to showcase it as Marceau tries with varying success to entertain his 12-year-old charges, Life Is Beautifully, and distract them from the dangers outside. The adolescents, all played by adult actors, include the virtuous Adolphe (Max Gordon Moore), the mischievous Henri (an amusing Alex Wyse), the sour and pessimistic Berthe (Tedra Millan) and the cowering Etiennette (Maddie Corman), who—perhaps in response to unspeakable trauma—never says a word.

Slater gives a terrific performance — physically agile and emotionally transparent. He avoids mythologizing Marceau, instead presenting a young man straining to hold everything together. When his cousin fails to appear and responsibility settles fully on his shoulders, the flicker of panic is visible.

I’ve written before about the potential trap of the “cool story” bio-play, and the good news is that Marcel on the Train is stylish and thoughtful enough to avoid the standard pitfalls. Only occasionally does it give off a whiff of Life Is Beautiful mawkishness. For the most part, it makes a good-faith effort to be wiser and wryer about the tenuousness of living and the spiritual utility of art.