a relationship thrive despite vastly opposing beliefs? That question asks the bizarre new musical Killing the Cat, brainchild of American composer Joshua Schmidt and British writer Warner Brown.
Maggie (Madalena Alberto) is a biophysicist dubbed “the next.” Stephen Hawking‘. She believes that humans are “molecular robots” and that emotions are just a series of chemical reactions – love included. Newly divorced and tired of answering questions about her bestseller, she flies out Livorno, Italy with (for some reason) her ex-husband’s sister, Sheila (Kluane Saunders).
Upon landing, Maggie quickly abandons Sheila (and sanity) after seeing Luke, a bare-breasted Aussie who is controlled by all things spiritual and divine – all she rejects.
Instead of doing the logical thing and brushing aside their conflicting views in the interests of a no-strings-attached holiday fling, the pair apparently fall in love after just a few days and consequently become invested in repeatedly carving out their views on science versus religion; logic versus the soul; the futility of existence versus a higher power.
Overall, these are compelling questions, but the dynamics quickly become tedious. It’s hard to feel invested since there’s nothing at stake, and we learn zero reasons why they like each other aside from “You’re hot”.
Meanwhile, there’s a B-plot involving Heather (Molly Lynch), a brave young Irish girl who claims to hear dead poets talking to her, and her travel buddy Connor (Joaquin Pedro Valdes). The pair flit through Livorno together, but mind-bogglingly, we never learn how they know each other or what their relationship is. The pairs’ paths cross at the religious “course” Luke leads, and conversations ensue about the merits of art and poetry – and Heather’s unexplainable voices. The purpose of this is unclear.
The struggle of this show is not the cast, who do a good job with what they’ve been given and boast of being musically brilliant theater voices all round, especially Lynch. But only so much character depth can be gained from dialogue that is often unnatural and clichéd; Maggie repeatedly says things like, “I don’t do poetry, I do facts.” Schmidt’s score is imaginative and often pleasant – On Such a Full Sea is a beautiful, compelling ballad – but the unbridled electronics in The Chemical Brain hurt Mine brain, and generally the tunes don’t stick in the mind.
Sifting out the overarching message is a challenge, but it seems that conflicting views shouldn’t get in the way of true love and happiness. You could agree with this to an extent, but it’s not like they’re disagreeing about whose turn it is to do the dishes – they’re trying to make a union work despite dramatically conflicting worldviews, and it’s just not clear Why. This is a show packed with big ideas, but the execution is ultimately confusing and lacking in nuance.
Riverside Studios, until April 22 riversidestudios.co.uk