“There is an assured originality to Regan’s take on the proceedings”
Following on from ‘HMS Pinafore’, ‘The Pirates of Penzance’ and ‘The Mikado’ Sasha Regan continues with the winning formula of an all-male cast with her revival of “Iolanthe”. The triumph of this concept is that it transcends the ‘gimmick factor’ of men trying to be girls. Instead, each member of the fine cast fully inhabits their character, irrespective of gender. While remaining faithful to the spirit of Gilbert and Sullivan, there is an assured originality to Regan’s take on the proceedings.
Torches flash in the darkness of the auditorium as a motley crew make their way to the stage as though breaking into an old schoolhouse. They discover an old copy of Gilbert and Sullivan’s “Iolanthe”, from where the journey through the absurd and gloriously silly story begins. Twenty-five years previous to the action of the opera, Iolanthe, a fairy, had committed the capital crime of marrying a mortal. The Queen of the Fairies, however, commuted her sentence to banishment, on condition that Iolanthe leave her husband and never see him again. Her son, Strephon, now twenty-five has grown up in the mortal world despite being half fairy and is engaged to marry Phyllis – the ward of the Lord Chancellor. But being a mere shepherd, he is not thought worthy by Phyllis’ guardian. Further mayhem ensues when Iolanthe, who has not aged in the quarter of a century, has her exile revoked and is reunited with her son.
As haywire as Gilbert’s libretto is, it is juxtaposed with perhaps the most beautiful of Arthur Sullivan’s scores. This combination makes for a compelling evening. Musical Director, Richard Baker provides the sole accompaniment at the piano, a device that highlights the melodies and allows the voices to take centre stage. That said, though, there were moments that begged for a more varied sound track to stir up the dynamics. But what it lacked in light and shade was compensated for by the quality of the singers. Close your eyes for a moment and it is easy to forget that this is an all-male cast. There is a purity to the finely tuned falsetto that is genuinely moving.
Christopher Finn’s ‘Iolanthe’ has an extraordinary quality to his voice that stands him out, despite having a lesser share of the spotlight than the title character merits. But it is very much an ensemble piece; and each actor, whether in the male or female registers handle the harmonies and the quick-fire patter of the lyrics with ease. And all this marvellous singing is done with their tongues firmly in their cheeks. Only a top notch team can afford not to take itself too seriously in such a relaxed manner. Mixing a fairy story with political satire is always going to be a tall order but this show wins us over with its own eccentric mix of magic and mastery.
“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.
