Roméo et Juliette

로미오와 줄리엣
A French musical adaptation of Romeo and Juliet condenses the original love story while amplifying energy through ensemble-driven staging and rock-infused numbers. However, its heavy reliance on exposition exposes structural inconsistencies in the plot.
Musical Reviews › Licensed in Korea › 2026
REVIEW
Romeo and Juliet is one of Shakespeare’s most well-known plays—a tragedy in which two lovers from feuding families fall in love and meet a fatal end, inspiring countless adaptations across media.
This production is a Korean licensed version of the French musical “Roméo et Juliette: de la Haine à l'Amour”. The curtain opens with a large emblem split into red and blue, visually foreshadowing the central conflict.
Before discussing the narrative, the energy of the music and performance must be addressed. Dialogue and songs flow seamlessly, while the ensemble fills the space, creating a dense musical texture. The composer’s signature layering—building from solo to ensemble—gives the work a sense of scale. Compared to “Notre-Dame de Paris”, the stronger rock influence makes the scenes with Romeo and his friends particularly vibrant and dynamic.
Romeo’s warm, stable tone blends well with Mercutio’s bold strength and Benvolio’s bright tenor highs, forming a balanced trio. The performer playing Romeo demonstrated notable vocal stability, with improved efficiency and control compared to his earlier performance in “Mozart!“.
Juliet expresses youthful longing through clear high notes and a pure tone. The ensemble, all miked except for the dancer representing “Death,” takes on physically demanding choreography, including tumbling. Rather than a fully integrated performer model, this production follows a division of roles—singers, ensemble, and dancers—reflecting the operatic tradition of French musicals.
The Prince of Verona, much like Gringoire in “Notre-Dame de Paris”, functions as a narrative guide, framing the story with a dark baritone presence. Despite limited stage time, he serves as a structural anchor. Tybalt also stands out, particularly in his emotionally charged solo number.
In terms of adaptation, the musical feels about 20% shifted from Shakespeare toward something closer to “& Juliet”. While the energetic ensemble and rock elements create a lively atmosphere, the narrative expands into a darker depiction, portraying Verona as a city consumed by war-like conflict.
From the opening, the Prince declares that the two families exist to fight, while Juliet dreams of destined love despite practical warnings. Romeo is accompanied by the figure of “Death,” lamenting youth sacrificed in conflicts created by older generations.
However, the characters’ explicitly stated ages—Romeo (24), Juliet (20), Tybalt (around 30)—undermine this theme. They are not adolescents but adults already embedded in society, which creates a disconnect between the thematic intention and narrative reality.
The famous balcony scene is intentionally compressed. Juliet quickly accepts Romeo and moves toward marriage at a pace that feels almost like, “What, okay, why not. Let’s get married.” This compression appears designed to heighten the contrast with the later tragedy.
Unlike West Side Story, where love develops gradually, this musical assumes emotional intensity from the outset, prioritizing narrative compression over emotional buildup—an approach that leaves some room for dissatisfaction.
Act II follows the original storyline closely while unfolding at a fast and dynamic pace. The conflict that emerges after the secret marriage, along with the war-like atmosphere that engulfs Verona, is conveyed with strong density through ensemble and choreography. The deaths of Mercutio and Tybalt are staged as the central climax, with each moment highlighted by isolated spotlights. The performers maintain vocal and dramatic stability, allowing these scenes to land effectively.
However, as the narrative progresses, the internal logic of the plot becomes less convincing. Juliet clearly expresses both the pressure of an arranged marriage and her desperation regarding Romeo, yet she does not appear to be physically confined or entirely without alternatives. Despite this, she chooses the extreme solution of feigning death with a potion. This choice feels less like a necessary act of escape and more like an excessive resolution.
In particular, considering that Romeo has already been banished from Verona, the decision to bring him back is inherently dangerous. His return could result in execution, yet no concrete contingency or follow-up plan is presented. As a result, the scene does not feel like an unavoidable tragedy but rather a chain of insufficiently considered choices.
Furthermore, by explicitly framing the use of the potion as a means to “bring Romeo back,” the narrative further weakens its own logic. The plan reads less as a carefully constructed reunion strategy and more as a simple device of recall. Since more straightforward alternatives seem available, the reliance on a complex and risky method becomes difficult to justify, making the progression feel artificially constructed rather than organically inevitable.
Juliet’s arc also unfolds in a fragmented manner rather than through accumulated emotional pressure. Although she faces marriage coercion, her conflict is not deeply built up; instead, it is resolved quickly through immediate action, such as throwing her wedding dress off the balcony and going directly to the friar. The portrayal of her inner struggle remains relatively direct and underdeveloped, which weakens the weight of her subsequent decisions.
The friar, too, is diminished in function as both planner and resolver of events. While he introduces the extreme measure of the potion, the plan lacks a clearly articulated long-term structure. After the tragedy unfolds, he is portrayed as lamenting and turning away rather than explaining and stabilizing the situation. Compared to the original, where he serves as a narrative mediator who restores order, this shift reduces the structural coherence of the ending.
Because these key decisions are not tightly interconnected but instead presented as separate narrative beats, the overall structure feels episodic rather than cumulative. Consequently, the tragedy appears less inevitable and more like a sequence of loosely connected events.
One notable exception is the scene involving Benvolio delivering the letter. Unaware of its contents, he reports Juliet’s death in distress, prompting Romeo to react impulsively. His decision to discard the letter and return to Verona feels emotionally convincing and sustains dramatic tension.
As in the original, the story concludes in tragedy, followed by reconciliation between the two families. Yet the question remains: why not reconcile earlier? While this ambiguity also exists in Shakespeare’s play, it becomes more pronounced here because the conflict has been repeatedly emphasized and explained throughout the performance.
This musical treats conflict not as a simple premise but as a dominant structural force governing Verona. However, when that accumulated conflict is abruptly resolved at the end, the narrative loses cohesion. The more thoroughly the conflict is explained, the more persuasive the resolution must be—and here, it falls short.
Nevertheless, the production maintains a high level of musical and performative quality. The stability of the vocals and the sustained energy of the performers ensure strong immersion. Regardless of the limitations in narrative logic, the emotional impact delivered on stage makes it an engaging and enjoyable experience.
All photos in this gallery were taken personally when photography was allowed, or are of programs, tickets, and souvenirs in my collection.





