No Horizon

The true story behind this new musical feels purpose-built for song. Blind Yorkshire lad Nicholas Saunderson’s rise from poverty to Lucasian Professor of Mathematics at Cambridge University—a post since held by Stephen Hawking—is a classic tale of triumph over adversity.

Writer Andy Platt, who’s worked on this musical for years, provides a strong depiction of the stigma faced by Saunderson and his dissenting family in 17th-century Protestant England. He also captures the ripe dramatic irony of the blind Saunderson’s rise to success via a lecture on Newton’s Optics.

But while it boasts some memorable numbers—particularly the title song—this production of No Horizon is brought low by a staging that fundamentally lacks the kind of imaginative vision with which Saunderson overcame his blindness. Shaky, blurred, projected backdrops deprive it of atmosphere.

Director Louise Denison also fails to handle the sizeable ensemble cast effectively. Too often, the supporting actors either end up milling around in the background or, in the Cambridge scenes, awkwardly choreographed. It doesn’t help that the quality of the singing is variable.

Samuel Reid makes an impassioned Saunderson, conveying a burning frustration at the social injustices that beset him. However, Reid’s portrayal of his character’s blindness—upon which the story’s dramatic momentum hinges—needs work.

No Horizon has much promise. The writing, while sometimes overwrought, tells a gripping story and vividly captures a time and a place. But it needs a far better staging to shine. Platt is a teacher and, sadly, this looks like a school production.