Many plays are based on factual events that had a great impact on society during the time they took place and usually make the protagonist the person who was responsible for the course of action. Such is the case of “Marcel on the Train,” penned by Marshall Pailet and Ethan Slater, now playing at Classic Stage Company. The plot revolves around a young Marcel Marceau who is drafted by his cousin George, both being members of the French Resistance, to accompany Jewish children from an orphanage in Limoges, France, to the Swiss border by train. The children are disguised as boy scouts headed to the Swiss alps for a camping trip. George believes that Marcel would be the perfect chaperone to guide the children on this treacherous train ride because of his ability to quietly entertain and amuse the children, without raising any suspicion. All the children, and Marcel have fake papers, but their authentic papers are hidden in Mayonnaise sandwiches, made by his father who owns a butcher shop. If the Nazi officers find the sandwiches, they will not bother examining them because they wouldn’t want to risk staining their uniforms with oil. The action for the most part takes place in the train car on the way to Switzerland. There are some close calls, but the children manage to escape to the Swiss border with the help of the ingenuity and artistic skills of Marceau.

Mr. Pailet also takes the helm as director, keeping the train moving, but with too many false starts and abrupt stops that diminish the tension. The attempt to create children with adult actors relies too heavily on stereotypical behavior and very little character development. The danger and life-threatening circumstances come and go but never linger as a constant reminder of consequences at hand. The script is a mental roller coaster ride, with twists, turns and past, present and future vignettes, which leave the play with a restrained dramatic arc and very little urgency that should be present and aligned with the situation. Scenic design by Scott Davis is simple, stark, clever and utilitarian, while creating a location that is always present. Lighting design by Studio Luna creates an atmosphere that is sharp and striking, at times illuminating scenes with menacing shafts of light. Sound design by Jill BC Du Boff brings the train ride to life, sometimes signaling trouble with the harrowing sound of screeching brakes.

The script brings to light an important fact about the French Resistance during the Nazi invasion but falls short in developing the character of Marel Marceau. The character appears two-dimensional and emotionally detached. Marceau was a master in the art of silent communication. The art of mime is a form that is not only physically precise and demanding but also filled with passionate and soulful silent conveyance. Words may explain a situation, but expressions reveal the consequential feelings and create a path to the soul. Silence provokes imagination. Bip not only mimics butterflies, but he also sees them, feels them and frees them.

Ethan Slater, co-author and star, deserves credit for tackling such ambitious material, but his performance never captures the essence of what made Marceau extraordinary. The physical work feels tentative rather than transcendent, technique without soul. When Marceau’s iconic “Bip chasing butterflies” appears late in the evening, it serves only to highlight what’s been missing throughout: the silent eloquence, the precise poetry of movement, the ability to make an audience see what isn’t there. “Marcel on the Train” honors Marceau’s heroism—saving nearly 100 Jewish children during the Nazi occupation—but fails to honor his artistry. We leave the theater knowing the facts of his resistance work but having never encountered the artist who would transform silence into revelation, who could make us believe in butterflies we couldn’t see.