A new musical brimming with big ideas and questions, but held back by poor narrative and lyrics.

Why do we exist? Is there a God? Are we simply the product of science, merely molecular robots? Killing The Cat is a new musical which explores themes of existentialism and religion while posing an ultimate question: can two people with such extreme opposing beliefs embark on a successful relationship?

I’ll begin with a little about the set design by Lee Newby. A pure white set of steps and arches, a nod to cycladic architecture which brings to mind Santorini (but without the blue), it is simple yet effective. We know we are somewhere in the Mediterranean. The scene is set for a holiday. The lighting choices (designed by Jamie Platt) work neatly with the blankness of the monotone set, at times warmly lit, at others thrown into a chaotic disco of colours. 

Spaced evenly throughout the set we have the musicians, Billy Bullivant on the keys (also credited as musical director), Robert Jane on drums and Georgia Morse on cello. This trio are undeniably skilled, at times I found myself watching them rather than the actors. I thought it was a lovely choice to have them on stage amongst the action especially as the music was so paramount to the style of the piece. 

Now, to the plot. The play begins with an interview. We meet Maggie (Madalena Alberto), a strong-minded scientist and author dubbed ‘the next Stephen Hawking’, crumbling under the pressure of incessant questioning. She believes that all human emotions, including love, are simply the result of a series of chemical reactions. In an effort to escape the ever-building pressure of fame Maggie decides she needs a holiday, and escapes to Livorno, Italy, bizarrely accompanied by her ex-husband’s sister Sheila (Klaune Sanders, who also takes to the stage later as Paula, Luke’s partner on the farm). 

Not long after arriving Maggie lays eyes on Luke (Tim Rogers), dressed in skinny jeans and bearing his chest. She is immediately smitten and abandons Sheila in pursuit of her handsome stranger. All is not well though, we swiftly learn that Luke is an avid believer in God and all things religious – he even runs a spiritual group which meets on a hilltop above the city. Despite her better judgement and the advice of Sheila (who pops up every now and then as a sort of replacement for Maggie’s lost common sense) Maggie pretends to be someone else entirely, hiding her scientific beliefs to keep the interest of Luke. This is something I found quite unrealistic – such a strong-willed, highly driven successful woman hiding the beliefs on which she has literally built her career, all for a man? I don’t think so. After just a few days the pair have managed to fall in love. But Maggie can’t hide her identity forever – Luke discovers the truth and we are launched into an ongoing debate as the pair put each other’s beliefs on trial. Bitter insults and attempted teachings are interspersed with confessions of love and threats of leaving.

Overall the themes that the play explores are interesting and compelling. I mean, it’s the big question, right? Why are we here? But the cycle of ‘I love you, let’s figure it out’ vs ‘we can never get over our differences, I’m leaving’ quickly becomes tedious and I found myself waiting for something more to happen. The relationship was unrealistic and purely based on physical attraction, there was nothing at stake, nothing to really grab you and keep you invested.

I will say though that both Alberto and Rogers gave it their all. It is difficult to build a fully rounded character when there is not much to mine from the script itself. The dialogue felt immature and unnatural, a disappointment particularly when the words came from the mouth of ‘the next Stephen Hawking’. But both leads must be commended on their commitment to their roles and their physical choices read well. 

Alongside the leading pair a sub-plot follows an unlikely duo who also happen to be in Livorno together. Heather (Molly Lynch), a young Irish girl haunted by the words of dead poets and her American travel buddy Connor (Joaquin Pedro Valdes) who is living in a perpetual state of existential angst. Their relationship is undefined, and we don’t know how they met or why they ended up here together. The two youths bring some slightly different, perhaps more balanced perspectives to the themes of the play, but over all their characters seem a little irrelevant to the arc (or lack thereof) of the storyline. Again, this is no fault of the actors themselves, both bring an incredible energy to their performances and wield incredible musical theatre voices. 

The music itself is a bit hit and miss. A lot of it sounded lovely, and there were some genuinely beautiful songs, but there were one or two numbers, notably The Chemical Brain which were particularly jarring. Overall if I think about the show now, the day after watching, I cannot call to mind any particular tune. 

The premise of Killing the Cat may be full of big ideas and promise, but with poor lyrics, no stakes and so much back and forth, I can’t say it’s high on my list of shows to see again. That said, a group of audience members leapt to their feet for a standing ovation at the end, and that must count for something. Perhaps it’s a marmite musical. I suppose that if you’ve reached the end of this review and are still curious, your only option is to go and see it to find out.