Review: MONARCH THEATRE, Park Row

Almost as secretive and hidden away as the Batcave, Soho’s Park Row is a restaurant dedicated to the Caped Crusader. At its heart lies Monarch Theatre, an immersive dining experience which combines projections, magic and a sumptuous tasting menu.

Everyone has a favourite Batman, whether it is the kitschy gloriousness of Adam West in the Sixties, Christian Bale’s more gritty take or Val Kilmer who was pure pastrami (being both beefy and hammy). The character has had something of a renaissance in the last few years: the latest DC flick The Flash has multiple versions of the iconic hero, Robert Pattinson is getting ready to put on the cowl again for The Batman 2 and spinoff TV shows like the Emma Corrin-starring Pennyworth and animated series Harley Quinn are highly underrated gems.

It’s important from the off to understand how subtly Park Row’s cookie crumbles. This isn’t some hardcore fan service hangout where every little thing is an obvious callback to the canon. Don’t expect a cackling Joker to pour you a cocktail or a hulking Bane to mumble a greeting as he sees you to your seat. If anything, it helps to think of it more as a high concept approach to the world of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne and his bone-crunching alter ego.

That might sound like an abstract experience but there are plenty of nifty physical touches too. The ground-level entrance seems a little dull until the bookcase swings opens and reveals the way down to Park Row proper (sadly, it is via a staircase and not a Batpole). Inside the cavernous Grade II-listed art deco space, you can pull up a pew at the Pennyworth’s Bar, check out the pictures in the Rogue’s Gallery dining area, sit aloft a bar stool in the Iceberg Lounge to admire the dry ice wafting off the Penguin sculpture or grab a cocktail in a hidden speakeasy.

And that’s before you step into Monarch Theatre, a rectangular space within Park Row which comes with its own bar, foyer and dedicated staff. On entering, know-all fans will have already clocked the relevance of the room’s name with a wry smile as we all take up the offer of a “light” or “dark” cocktail (a lychee lemongrass martini or blackberry chocolate rum martini) based on the flip of a coin, a nod to the villain Two-Face.

Each section of the ten-part menu alludes to a character who is brought to vivid life through Michelin-quality food, exquisite presentation, lively full-room projection-mapping and a playful introduction from the host. The Riddler’s dish comes with a poser (“what tastes better than it smells?”), the answer to which opens a metal container with a vial of yellow liquid. That vial comes in handy in the second half of the night when we come to Mr Freeze and are presented with a very cool (pun very much intended) plate made seemingly from frozen crystals; the yuzu liquid from the vial becomes a tasty counterpart to the crunchy frog legs, smoked eel, veal sweetbreads and ice plant. And psychiatrist-turned-sassy-psycho Harley Quinn? She’s represented here by a cutesy cocktail glass filled with a tangy tomato gazpacho and mini pepper-laced elixir that doesn’t require her famed baseball bat to persuade us to dig in.

As for her infamous beau Mr J, his contribution to the night’s entertainment (like the best part of many a show) comes just before the interval. The Joker is renown for his darkly creative approach to crime so it’s no huge shock when, alongside the colourful combo of black Cod, pale Lobster tortellini and purple cauliflower puree on a platter with his trademark smile, we are served up a large ominous filled syringe. Before we get stuck into the food, we’re instructed to take the plunge(r) and decorate away with the sauce.

Sometimes, it’s the character personality traits that lead the way. The Penguin’s penchant for the posh things in life is reflected in a plate which is gloriously over the top: creamy scallops and the ocean-freshness of the caviar are pepped up by some chorizo oil and accompanied by white chocolate and an edible gold leaf. The Scarecrow has a pathological desire to scare the holy crap out of all and sundry so it is fitting that we get a spooky red fungi made of mushroom and port pate aloft a mossy glass dome.

Dining tables are, to the right mindset, a tableau in and of themselves, something many restaurants forget. Around London, we already have animated mini-chefs and interactive surfaces and what Monarch Theatre does in the name of Poison Ivy is breathtaking. The most eco-minded of Batman’s villain roster is very now and I for one am glad that she is represented here by something less than obvious choice of a salad or a green-hued dish. Instead, we are presented with a lush, verdant forest laid out along the centre of the table amidst which we are asked to forage for our next course: a hollowed-out pineapple filled with the smoky-tasting fruit and coconut ice-cream alongside a perfectly spherical gel bubble filled with passion fruit-flavoured liquid. Bursting with invention and flavour, this is inspirational fine dining at its very best.

Pairing every dish is a different glass of wine chosen by head sommelier Milena de Waele, each delivered and poured with panache into a different receptacle; vino afficionados or those wanting to cosplay as a billionaire for a night can opt for an excellent prestige wine pairing which includes some back vintages and prestige Champagne cuvées. Even if the early options were a tad too subtle for my earthy Sicilian palate, there’s no denying that the serving and flavour of the beverages are every bit as enjoyable and clever as the food.

For even the most casual follower of Gotham’s gruff protector, there is plenty – both literally and metaphorically - to get one’s teeth into. Executive chef Karl O’Dell’s menu is replete with memorable moments and comes with a surfeit of ingenious concepts while magician Chris Cox (The Cursed Child) adds a slew of special effects (we especially liked the floating plate). The direction from James Bulmer (CEO of Wonderlands Restaurant, the group behind Park Row and Monarch Theatre) and the skill of the waiting staff are casually breathtaking given the high complexity involved in each sitting. To paraphrase Terry Pratchett’s thoughts on opera, the success of a Monarch Theatre show depends on a large number of things amazingly failing to go wrong.

Bulmer is also responsible for the writing, the weakest aspect here: the narration is commendably underplayed and thankfully free of Adam West-era whimsy but feels a million miles from the gothic noir tones of Frank Miller and more recent writers. Further, an episodic arc would have come across as a more authentic approach than taking us through a series of individual characters.

This extravagant experience is phenomenal in almost every aspect but doesn’t quite stick the landing. Or should we say take-off? The final part of this gourmet odyssey is themed around Superman and, via thrilling immersive projections, we are lifted away from terra firma into inky space, all the while digging into rhubarb souffle and custard ice-cream on a container shaped like the ship that brought the Big Blue Boy Scout to planet Earth. For a show ostensibly neck-deep in the Batman ethos, it is a headscratcher as to why this evening comes to an end with a very different hero and far, far away from grim and gritty Gotham. It’s a conundrum that even the World’s Greatest Detective would be hard put to figure out.

Monarch Theatre continues at Park Row with a new story and menu due to be launched this summer.

With many thanks to cabaret performer and Masterchef quarterfinalist Chrisalys for his thoughts and insights.

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