“it is this playful sense of fun, championed undoubtedly by director Benji Sperring, that saves the production from stalling at the starting line”
“We love Hamilton” intone the cast on a bare stage at the King’s Head Theatre in Islington, “and we found it hilarious that when Hamilton was first announced, loads of people thought it was a musical about Lewis Hamilton”. I’m not sure if this is really true, and not particularly hilarious, but somehow the misconception hatched the idea: “… wouldn’t it be funny to write a musical about Lewis Hamilton?” the cast then further expound. We are barely sixty seconds into the show and I think I already have the answer to the question.
Lewis Hamilton, arguably the most successful British F1 driver in the history of the sport, is less the subject but more of a vehicle, albeit a high-speed one, for a series of quips and smart references to the modern-day concepts of celebrity, media awareness and corporate sponsorship juxtaposed with and the age old ‘love versus career’ dialogue. If the jokes are occasionally a bit thin, the performances are consistently full bodied, and the four actors do rev up the material with their infectious energy. Although a sporting superstar, Lewis has been frequently described as running low on personality, but Letitia Hector pumps life into the character, fuelled by a sharp sense of irony and fun. Hector depicts Hamilton as a starry-eyed innocent, quickly apprised by the pantomime figure of his team member Fernando Alonso (Louis Mackrodt) and manager Big Ron (Jamie Barwood). “Drive less, smile more” Alonso advises, steering Hamilton headlong into the path of high-profile branding and trophy girlfriends. Cue Nicole Scherzinger; a skilled yet playful performance by Liberty Buckland, who somehow manages to turn caricature into a fully fleshed character.
In fact, it is this playful sense of fun, championed undoubtedly by director Benji Sperring, that saves the production from stalling at the starting line. Fiona English’s book relies on too few gags and David Eaton’s brilliantly scanned lyrics, while well-crafted and witty, are let down by unmemorable music.
There is an overall sense of ‘it seemed like a good idea at the time’ that courses through this show, and maybe it hasn’t travelled well from Edinburgh to London. The haphazard nature, though, does give the show an anarchic edge and it is refreshing to see a company make just as much fun of themselves as the subjects, while riding teasingly close to the wrong side of our libel laws. Yet it also falls victim to these very qualities that do suggest a work in progress; with the chequered flag still a few laps away.
In the prologue, the audience are told that it has taken Lin Manuel Miranda four and a half years to get his hit musical “Hamilton” to where it is. This musical, though, has literally raced to get where it is. And unfortunately, it shows.
“This production has no weak points, and provides frequent moments of genuine hilarity”
The Mikado was first performed in 1885, when the British Empire was at its height, and Japan was seen as an utterly alien but intriguing nation. Japanese objects and artefacts were all the rage, and Gilbert and Sullivan tapped into this Japanophilia to satirise English governmental bureaucracy – creating a sort of 19th century musical version of Yes Minister.
In this current production, by the Charles Court Opera at The King’s Head, Glenn Miller’s jaunty hit, Chattanooga Choo Choo, plays as we take our seats, and places us firmly in the 1940s. Together with the gentle amber glow of the stage, carpeted and comfortably furnished with a Chesterfield sofa and other accoutrements of a gentleman’s club of the period, the tone is set for this tremendous production, which sparkles with joy and warmth. The choice of setting also sensitively and cleverly deals with the potential pitfalls of cultural appropriation, with Rachel Szmukler’s beautiful painted Japanese-style wall panels providing the perfect visual reference point in an otherwise British colonial environment. The cast – with the notable exception of Philip Lee’s splendid déclassé outsider Ko-Ko – speak and sing in heightened RP, which pokes affectionate fun at this most ludicrous of stories, whilst at the same time celebrating its enduring appeal.
It is clear from the first number that we are in good hands; the three opening singers (Matthew Palmer, Philip Lee and Matthew Kellett) in fine voice, relish the crisp fun of W. S. Gilbert’s peerless lyrics, and Damian Czarnecki’s choreography is tight and snappy to match. David Eaton’s faultless accompaniment, from an upright piano in the corner of the stage, sets the pace, and never lacks energy, even in the few moments when the operetta’s frenzied clip gives way to a more romantic or contemplative interlude. John Savournin directs with surety and panache, and David Eaton’s musical direction, plus superlative work from the show’s young cast, ensure that not a word or note is lost. This surely is the way to see Gilbert and Sullivan, in order to savour every fabulous rhyme and cherish every melody in this frenetically brilliant score.
This production has no weak points, and provides frequent moments of genuine hilarity, not least in the terrific contemporary updates in the perennial favourite ‘I’ve got a Little List’. In the midst of such a rollicking good time it can often be difficult to carry the audience into more poignant territory, but this is ably done throughout, and special mention must go here to the wonderfully affecting rendition of Katisha’s solo ‘Alone and yet alive’ by Matthew Siveter. Alys Roberts and Jack Roberts are perfectly cast as the young lovers Yum-Yum and Nanki-Poo; Alys Roberts’ exquisite soprano ranging effortlessly from effervescence to sweet romance, and blending beautifully with Jack Roberts’ crystal clear tenor. Matthew Palmer, Matthew Kellett and Philip Lee are terrific throughout, both vocally and comically, and Jessica Temple and Corinne Cowling fizz with girlish glee as Yum-Yum’s companions. Whether you are are new to The Mikado or already a fan, this production simply cannot be bettered. It deserves every accolade that will undoubtedly come its way.
