Review: OPERATION MINCEMEAT, Fortune Theatre

SpitLip have finally invaded the West End. Operation Mincemeat is, easily and certainly, the most exciting new musical to hit Theatreland in a long time, perhaps the most extraordinary grassroots success story of the past decade of theatre. After starting small at the New Diorama in 2019 as one of their commissions, David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson, and Zoë Roberts' project grew a bona fide fandom that earned them two more runs at Southwark Playhouse and Riverside Studios before joyously accompanying them into the heart of London. It's how these things should go, yet the industry makes it incredibly difficult.

The 1943 mission to deceive the Nazi troops and lead an allied invasion of Sicily might be better known to mainstream audiences due to the 2022 film starring Colin Firth, but this musical wonder is where it's at. We follow a group of British Intelligence agents as they put all their hopes in a corpse to defeat the Germans. When we reviewed the show in 2021, we called it "gender-blind, genre-hopping, and genuinely ingenious". It still rings true. But, going into the Fortune Theatre and marking the building's first press night in three decades, the production has even more attitude, featuring excellent additions that could only happen with West End money.

Operation Mincemeat is a victory for the underdog, in themes as well as in reality. Relatable characters with vibrant backgrounds, regardless of their size, go on a Frankensteinian journey to divert the Nazi battalion to Sardinia. From songs about wanting to be a maggot to heart-wrenching glimpses into tragic love stories, it's as eclectic as it is entertaining. Rhythmic pop music, a contemporary musical theatre sound, the odd rap segue, and a tune that would feel at home at Berghain for good measure ("Das Übermensch") are the foundation of this life-affirming, riotous history lesson.

Cumming, Hodgson, Jak Malone, Claire-Marie Hall, and Zoë Roberts reconvene on stage after various stints in previous iterations, redelivering that gloriously impeccable comic timing that makes the piece work and made it famous. That precisely organised chaos that leads to sheer brilliance. Deception and intrigue are interwoven with the hilarious logistics of sourcing a freshly drowned body and making sure that the fabricated military strategy falls into Nazi hands. Clever turns of phrase - both linguistic and melodic - create a watertight seal where a strong feminist stance coexists with critical patriotism and a burning sense of justice.

Robert Hastie (Standing at the Sky's Edge) takes over the direction, revamping it from splendid fringe curiosity to legitimate West End spectacular. This new afflux of budget has the creatives splashing out on deliciously OTT sets (Ben Stones), snazzier lights (Mark Henderson), and meticulous choreography (Jenny Arnold) that refine all the character swaps and scene changes into butterlike smoothness. While this transformation has the show fit in perfectly in its glitzy neighbourhood, the spirit of it is, thankfully, still the same.

The five actors play everybody from the MI5 team who planned the action to the side characters who make it happen. Cumming is Charles Cholmondeley, the nervous, insecure mastermind behind the master plan. His physical comedy is overwhelmingly laugh-out-loud eccentric as he is spurred and teased by Hodgson's Ewen Montagu, a man-spreading, growling, egocentric Naval intelligence officer who keeps going head-to-head with Roberts' sceptical, practical, and metaphor-averse Johnny Bevan. While they bicker and spar, Malone deftly steals the scene with his collection of characters while Hall's young and excited typist Jean Leslie becomes an anti-patriarchal icon.

Malone reiterates his prowess and gender-bending flair as Hester Leggett, Bevan's underestimated secretary, with the emotionally show-stopping ballad "Dear Bill", a definite highlight in an exquisitely crafted tracklist. SpitLip ends the production on a sombre note, giving pause to the audience and refocusing the attention from the galavanting malarkey of the finale to its real protagonist, "the man who wasn't". Glyndwr Michael was a Welsh homeless man who died of rat poisoning and ended up winning the after washing up on a Spanish beach as Major William Martin, briefcase cuffed to his wrist and a great backstory. It's a bittersweet, heartfelt tribute.

If you see one musical this year, make that Operation Mincemeat, the unlikely diamond of the West End. It has everything: an enthralling plot inhabited by surprising characters, a game of egos and justice, a ruse in the ruse, and a cast who deserve to be showered in awards. Ultimately, it's a profound reflection on the roles we play in life, all laced with pure humour and a crystal-clear vision. "Some are born to follow", but SpitLip are born to lead.

Operation Mincemeat runs at the Fortune Theatre until 19 August.

Photo credit: Matt Crockett

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