OPERATION MINCEMEAT: THE WEST END HIT IS STILL THE PERFECT MIX OF INGENIOUS, SILLY AND MOVING
My original Operation Mincemeat musical review was an unqualified five-star rave. I was bowled over by this plucky British success story – or two stories, in fact: both the astonishing real-life Second World War plot to foil the Nazis, and the crafting of a knockout show about it. But I did wonder how it might fare once the original creators left the cast. Might it lose its magic?
Not a bit of it. Robert Hastie’s Olivier Award-winning Operation Mincemeat London theatre production now has a new company (bar the excellent Claire-Marie Hall, who remains as ambitious secretary Jean Leslie), but it’s still that glorious combination of ingenious, silly and surprisingly moving. It honours these war heroes, but with that key British asset: a sense of humour.
That really is necessary, because the actual 1943 operation is, well, bonkers. The Allies needed to persuade Hitler that they planned to invade Sardinia instead of Sicily. So, those crafty chaps at MI5 disguised a corpse as a marine, Bill, who washes up on the coast of Spain with fabricated documents – thus persuading the Führer to move his troops.
All of this is conveyed in the Operation Mincemeat musical London production with remarkable efficiency: it’s a masterclass in pithy – and witty – exposition. The fast-paced patter numbers have a touch of Hamilton, and Jean’s Beyoncé-esque girl-power song would slot right into Six, but this homegrown show (by David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts) most evokes the likes of Monty Python and Gilbert and Sullivan, and our grand music hall tradition.
There’s zany slapstick and jaw-dropping quick-changes that summon to mind the musical’s oft-used phrase: “God, that’s brilliant!”. Much of the fun comes from seeing a cast of five conjuring up numerous characters and locations, including a morgue, a nightclub and a submarine, aided by Ben Stones’s dextrous design.
The charismatic Emily Barber applies extra roguish public-schoolboy swagger to puts entitled ringleader Ewen Montagu, and doesn’t shy away from his blithe indifference towards the tramp whose body they use. But that latter is shown to be a coping mechanism in dark times. As Charles Cholmondeley, Seán Carey is a sweetly sympathetic scientist geek (his recurring newt analogies are howlingly funny), and Chlöe Hart is fantastic as brusque boss Johnny Bevan, a perspiring Englishman abroad, and some author called Ian Fleming who keeps pitching his spy novel.
Christian Andrews somehow gives us both a gleefully camp and creepy coroner and a grounded portrayal of waspish MI5 spinster Hester Leggatt. It’s Hester who writes the all-important letter from Bill’s sweetheart, drawing on her own painful loss from the First World War – a standout number that reduces everyone to tears, and a salient reminder of a generation who sacrificed everything, not once but twice.
After keen Mincemeat fans unearthed details about the real Hester, a plaque has been installed at the theatre dedicated to her. It adds poignancy to her line “I don’t think it’s people like me who the crowds come to see.” Those buying Operation Mincemeat tickets in their thousands would disagree: it’s exactly these quiet heroes who are now the toast of the West End – and, given that the show is just as terrific with a new company, who will surely remain here for a long time to come. That’s a victory worth applauding.
Currently booking to Jan 25 2025. Tickets: operationmincemeat.com
2024-06-14T12:40:38Z dg43tfdfdgfd