Marie Curie: The Musical is a history lesson combined with a chemistry seminar and it’s aimed at indignant feminists who want to agonise afresh over the wrongs of yesteryear. We meet the young Marie, wearing her signature widow’s frock, as she speeds towards Paris on a train from Poland.
The essential materials of this musical are hard to get to grips with; the characters stiff, the tunes so-so
This opening scene is positively trembling with significant detail. Her fellow passenger, Sarah, is an impoverished Pole who has rejected the advances of a wealthy swineherd and decided to take a job at a Parisian glassworks. Her plan is to save all her wages and buy land in Poland which she will farm herself while sinking the profits into a theatre that specialises in cabaret. Wow. What an amazingly ambitious female migrant.
As the women part, Sarah gives Marie a handful of Poland’s precious soil, which she just happens to have in her purse.
Comments
Join the debate for just $5 for 3 months
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for $5.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just $5 for 3 monthsAlready a subscriber? Log in