For my birthday last year, I bought myself a last-minute ticket for Anastasia the Musical.

I was excited, looking forward to a spectacular dress transformation in “Once Upon a December,” to the live musical twist on the fantasy, to Dmitri enchanting.

Unfortunately, I was disappointed; and I ended up staying up late that night to watch the animated film, which reminded me even more distinctly how much better it was. 

There were many “small” choices that bothered me about the musical’s execution. One of the biggest was that the actress who plays Countess Lily, aka the Sophie analogue, is thin. From when I was young, Sophie being so sexy while being unapologetically fat, without it being a big joke, was vital for me, and I was incredibly disappointed to see a rather thin actress play her. “Once Upon a December” was not nearly as big as I anticipated it would be, especially considering that the scene of the ballet was so breathtaking—they could have done better for sure.

The creators of the musical took an interesting turn that had tremendous potential: they decided to make the story more realistic, getting rid of the demonic sorcerer Rasputin and the green monsters that haunt the film. It was an intriguing twist with a lot of potential, but ultimately, it didn’t work because of their indecision and their failure to commit to the idea fully.

In a musical that is glossy and warm, Count Ipolitov boards the train to Paris in the hope of escape, but is fatally shot by police for doing so; Anya, Dmitry, and Vlad then need to flee. The serious scenes of terror hold no fear; because by keeping the poppy, magical songs like “Journey to the Past” and “Learn to Do It,” the musical infuses the audience with plenty of confidence that Anastasia will be fine. Either the darkness of Leningrad doesn’t fit within this musical, or the joyful heart of the film doesn’t fit within the dark story of the Romanovs’ firing squad; the musical flits back and forth but doesn’t do nearly enough to connect them, dampening the impact of both.

For one thing, their attempts to make the musical ‘more realistic’ fall in unnecessary places, causing forced storylines and turns. They take out magic or coincidence that didn’t need to be cut, and it takes away from the joys of the film. For example, the first hints of Anya’s true identity only happen after they get Anya to join their con—an attempt at realism, I suppose. Dmitri was not a boy in the palace who helped her escape; he’s disconnected from the royals, except that they once met eyes during a parade, a moment they both remember distinctly somehow. By making these two changes, the writers remove the tension of the film, where Anya believes she may be Anastasia, and we get to watch skeptical Dmitri realize the truth in the background. In addition, Anya’s anger at Dmitri no longer makes sense; she agreed to be Anastasia to get to Paris, why should she be angry that they were using her for a reward? By attempting to force realism on a fantastical story, the writers make it more contrived, not less: in the film, we know Anya is tough through context and attitude, while in the musical, we’re forced to get that information through Anya beating up Dmitri’s old con partners when they attack them.

I spent a lot of the musical seriously missing the drama of the monstrous, already-dead Rasputin. The villain is extremely weak. The villain is human general Gleb Vaganov, a man whose father shot the Romanovs. In Leningrad, he is in charge of shutting down rumors that Anastasia might still be alive and making propaganda speeches. He arrests Anya and warns her against posing as Anastasia, but lets her go; but then Gleb receives orders from above to follow Anya out of Russia and shoot her personally if she turns out to be Anastasia. 

All of this makes no sense whatsoever, and meanwhile Gleb gets motivations that are initially interesting (being a good soldier) but that get boring and repetitive quite quickly; but putting all that aside, Gleb...develops feelings very early on for Anya. Yes, it’s gross. And uncomfortable. And creepy, but in a boring way. He could carry the darkness and terror of a Lenin-ruled Russia, but instead he just kind of creeps around in the background singing about how he thinks Anya is cute (from meeting her that once) but also wants to shoot her. 

And that leads to a messy (and lame) ending to the musical. The ending of the animated movie is terrifying and dramatic as heck, marked by bridges crumbling, Dmitri’s epic return, and Anastasia crushing Rasputin’s reliquary and watching him disintegrate. The end of the musical is somehow both melodramatic and underwhelming. Gleb slips into Anasatasia’s room and explains about needing to shoot her. She’s been feisty and calm under pressure for most of the musical, but now her character traits burst like a bubble, and she starts emotionally telling him to kill her so she can be with her family, instead of fighting him for the gun and maybe punching him in the face, like the Anastasia we know and love. And then Gleb is suddenly overwhelmed with shame (and love? ew) and decides not to kill her. And she...comforts him.

She goes and runs off with Dmitri, just like in the film, and Gleb and the Dowager Empress make a joint announcement that Anastasia is officially dead (is Lenin supposed to buy this, or does Gleb just not return to Russia, or…?) (This did make me realize that the ending doesn’t make too much sense in either the film or musical. They’re already exiles in Paris, so it isn’t clear why Dmitri and Anya can’t both just stay with the Empress. And where exactly are the couple planning to go? But at least in the film, Anya says she’s coming back—here, perhaps the idea is that she’s going to stay in hiding to avoid Lenin sending more people after her.) It’s just not a convincing ending, or an exciting one. Rasputin makes sense because his motivations are cut away from the revolution: he is a twisted corpse bent on achieving revenge, and so the film doesn’t have to work too hard to make his attacks fit into historical frameworks. As Gleb appears in the background of the ballet, of Paris, of the Russian countryside, singing about shots and screams but then also about having a crush on Anya, I found myself desperately missing the green spirits from the film that haunted my dreams when I was little.

The creators of this musical could have made this musical dark, gritty, and politically realistic, which would have required more research, a darker villain (who was not in love with the protagonist), new songs, and more thought put into the way this mystery would fit in the true landscape of a Lenin Russia. Or, the creators could have gone the Disney musical on Broadway route, and taken the film and its tone, ramped up the on-stage magic, the dance scenes, the fantasy, and made it a fun spectacle. By trying to preserve the tone of the original film but injecting it with historical realism, the creators only succeed in evoking a jarring tone and story that is no longer convincing.

Leah Rachel von Essen is a writer and editor who gets most of her reading done while walking. Leah works full-time as a magazine assistant editor while reviewing for Booklist, writing for Book Riot, writing about books at blog While Reading and Walking, and writing and querying her novels. She is passionate about Broadway musicals, genre-bending novels, fairy tales, and women’s soccer. Originally from New Jersey, Leah is now based in Chicago, where she lives with her cat, Ms. Nellie Bly.