Disney’s Anastasia (1997) was among the first musical films I knew in its entirety. While many children frolicked to Timon and Pumbaa’s playful anthem in The Lion King, I was instead reenacting “Once Upon a December” in my living room, captivated by a heroine whose quiet determination carried her through danger and uncertainty. At the time, I could not have anticipated how deeply this film would shape my relationship with musical theatre. “Journey to the Past” soon became a staple audition piece, and Anya’s unwavering belief in her own worth quietly informed my own developing sense of confidence.
What I did not yet understand, however, was the historical context behind the story: the execution of the Russian imperial family in 1918 and the long-standing myth that Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanov survived. The 1997 animated film leans fully into fantasy, using magic and spectacle to distance itself from historical reality. The stage musical, which premiered on Broadway in 2017 with a book by Terrence McNally and music and lyrics by Stephen Flaherty and Lynn Ahrens, takes a different approach, removing the supernatural elements in favour of a more realistic political setting. This creative decision has lingered uneasily over the production since its premiere, inviting criticism for its revisionist narrative – a species of theatrical “fake news,” further undermined by the musical’s questionable commitment to American accents.
In performance, now at Sydney Lyric Theatre, this shift proves to be both the musical’s strength and its ongoing headache. The added emotional realism gives our protagonist's journey genuine weight, but it also has the unfortunate side effect of sanding down the Romanovs into blameless martyrs, rather than the notoriously repressive Romanov monarchy as recorded in history.
The result is an uneasy dance between historical fact and rose‑tinted nostalgia – one this Australian production works visibly hard to perform away. Helped by an exemplary ensemble, a riveting ballet interlude and an intentional focus on each character's personal arc rather than dynastic sentimentality, the production succeeds, even if the underlying contradictions of the material remain.
What is the premise of Anastasia?
Anastasia: The Musical is a stage adaptation inspired by both 20th Century Fox’s 1997 animated film and the earlier 1956 live‑action film. Set in post‑revolutionary Russia, the narrative follows Anya (Georgina Hopson, Titanique, Phantom of the Opera), a young woman suffering from amnesia who is persuaded by the opportunistic Dmitry (Robert Tripolino) and his associate Vlad (Rodney Dobson, Beauty and the Beast) that she may, in fact, be the youngest daughter of Tsar Nicholas II, long rumoured to have survived the Romanov family’s execution. Groomed to perform royal legitimacy, Anya is taken to Paris to be presented to the Dowager Empress (Nancye Hayes, A Little Night Music) and her confidante Countess Lily (Rhonda Burchmore, Hairspray) where her supposed claim to imperial identity becomes entangled with questions of memory, belonging and truth.
What are the highlights of Anastasia?
Flaherty and Ahrens present a soaring, intricate musical landscape, which the Australian cast only elevates. They each have vocal power in spades, all ringing high notes and unapologetic vibrato. At times, the sound ricochets off the Sydney Lyric balcony with enough force to raise goosebumps, none more so than during Joshua Robson’s turn as Bolshevik general Gleb. Robson brings an operatic weight to the role that the Lyric stage has been quietly craving, pairing vocal heft with unexpected emotional restraint. His performance earned a well‑deserved opening‑night standing ovation – a performance that surprised me as much as it moved me, and one I suspect will linger long after the curtain call.
As Vlad, the eternally scheming romantic, Dobson proves an equally welcome revelation. It is the kind of performance that invites a second viewing, purely to catch the subtleties tucked into each comedic beat. His second‑act scenes opposite Burchmore crackle with energy; Burchmore herself is a live wire, but together they form the production’s comic engine and emotional backbone – proof that, amid imperial myths and sweeping romance, it is chemistry that ultimately keeps this Anastasia warm‑blooded and alive.
Robert Tripolino brings an earnest, grounded presence to Dmitry, anchoring the production as its scrappy and sincere romantic lead. Much of the show’s visual storytelling unfolds through his perspective, particularly as he narrates Aaron Rhyme’s expansive video designs, which dominate Alexander Dodge’s overall scenographic vision. To the production’s credit, these projections – of St Petersburg, the long train journey across Europe, and finally Paris – are not merely decorative but are animated into something approaching character, inviting the audience into Dmitry, Vlad and Anya’s physical and emotional journey through the space. Special mention must also be given to the supporting cast, with Elliot Baker charming as Count Ipolitov through the richness of his bass vocals, and musical theatre debutante Sophie Bae dazzling as the lead ballerina in Swan Lake.
At the centre of it all is Hopson, who steadily claims the stage despite frumpy costuming that does her few favours, ageing her unnecessarily. She ultimately finds her voice, infusing Anya with a persuasive blend of vulnerability and determination, and delivering consistently strong vocals, particularly in the musical’s most enduring and nostalgia-laden numbers, where her performance allows the material to shine.
Who is Anastasia the musical for?
There is comfort here for those chasing childhood nostalgia, but this production wisely refuses not to stop there. If Anastasia remains an imperfect musical, this Australian staging makes a persuasive case for its theatrical worth – enough, at least, to ensure audiences leave humming, thinking and unexpectedly moved.
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