Operation Mincemeat runs until Dec. 13 at the Royal Alexandra Theatre in Toronto.Matthew Murphy/Supplied
- Title: Operation Mincemeat
- Book, music and lyrics by: David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts
- Directed by: Robert Hastie
- Actors: Mariah Copeland, Katie Kleiger, Luke Antony Neville, Erin Ramirez, Jake Bentley Young
- Company: Mirvish Productions
- Venue: Royal Alexandra Theatre
- City: Toronto
- Year: Runs until Dec. 13
Critic’s Pick
Deep in the throes of the Second World War, a homeless vagabond eats rat poison and dies. British intelligence officers, hoping to trick the Nazis into moving out of Sicily to make room for an upcoming Allied invasion, quickly seize the body – it is perfect.
The cadaver is christened Bill, and the plan plummets into place. Bill – whose actual name and biography are low-priority for the officers of MI5 – receives a Royal Marine uniform, plus a briefcase stuffed with trumped-up details about the Allied Forces’ plans for Italy.
When the Brits dump the corpse off the coast of Spain – with a tightly harmonized send-off song à la Elton John, no less – they can only hope he’ll stay intact long enough for Hitler to get wind of the phony documents floating by his side.
Operation Mincemeat, the unapologetically British musical by David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts, doesn’t attempt to justify the real-life means Allied forces used to deceive the Nazis. Its lyrics highlight the paradox of British gentility, the barbarism baked into the country’s upper crust; its earwormy score, which ranges in genre from German techno to sea shanty, illustrates rather than obfuscates the complexity of the dilemma at hand.
When we meet lead officer Ewen Montagu (an outstanding Katie Kleiger), it’s in a haze of self-adulating showmanship. He’s charming and waggish, a Barney Stinson type used to getting his way – not once does he give even the appearance of caring if the corpse in his care had a family.
Operation Mincemeat is one of the most entertaining touring musicals to play a Mirvish stage in years, writes Aisling Murphy.Matthew Murphy/Supplied
Charles Cholmondeley (Jake Bentley Young) shows a touch more compassion for Bill’s former identity, but then again, Operation Mincemeat was his concoction in the first place – Monty’s simply who packaged it for Colonel John Bevan (Mariah Copeland)’s approval. As such, Charles’ fidelity to the plan shifts between scenes, in stark contrast to Monty’s belligerent belief that all will work out.
Hester Leggatt (Luke Antony Neville, another standout in a cast of standouts), meanwhile, doesn’t seem to feel any particular way about the mission at hand. It’s simply what needs to be done. But before long, the matronly senior secretary and supervisor to young clerk Jean Leslie (Erin Ramirez) reveals a tender inner life that underscores the importance of understanding exactly who MI5 has recruited as its maritime bait. Her song Dear Bill, about the fake love letters in the body’s briefcase, brings sharply into focus the terrible – and necessary – task the team has carried out.
Indeed, Operation Mincemeat doesn’t answer the enormous questions it lobs into the air: Is life truly only for the living? Was the desecration of a helpless corpse worth the liberation of continental Europe? Does the luxury of hindsight justify the unjustifiable?
Instead, the high-energy show passes those debates to the audience, in the blazing technicolor glamour of musical theatre. Sure, Monty’s a scoundrel – but he sings like a dream and supplies the show’s best laughs. Yes, Bill’s fate is completely, indefensibly tragic – but the won war results in a glitzy finale (cheekily titled A Glitzy Finale) that rivals any you’d see in a less morally thorny piece of theatre.
Add in the show’s highly British use of drag – each of the show’s five actors play jump-rope with gender, hopping nimbly between characters of all types in the spirit of Monty Python – and Operation Mincemeat emerges as one of the most entertaining touring musicals to play a Mirvish stage in years.
It’s scary out there. Live theatre is trying to make the most of it
But those questions of culpability hang heavily over the confection, enriching the musical into something far deeper than K-pop-inspired Nazi dance routines. (Yes, seriously, and yes, it works.) Until Operation Mincemeat’s surprisingly poignant conclusion – which I won’t spoil here – the audience is tasked with computing all manner of ethical calculus, a trolley problem to the nth degree. The show is as much a riddle as a musical.
As such, I suspect Operation Mincemeat benefits from repeat viewings – its weaker beginning likely improves with knowledge of its gut-punch ending – and I intend to test that hypothesis thoroughly before the production leaves Toronto in December.
But in those encore encounters with the show, I also have to hope that Mike Walker’s surprisingly crude sound design is tweaked to the needs of the Royal Alexandra Theatre. On opening night, nearly half of Operation Mincemeat’s lyrics were obscured by microphone feedback and fuzzy speakers; entire songs, delivered quickly and in thick British accents, were all but lost to muddy mixing.
Those perplexing snafus might overpower a weaker piece of theatre. But director Robert Hastie runs a tight ship, and gleefully leans into Operation Mincemeat’s scrappy sense of spectacle. In the tradition of fellow West End farces (I’m looking at you, The Play That Goes Wrong), the show embraces low-budget sight gags that elevate rather than cheapen the story. Think big hats, silly sets and impish props (set and costumes are by Ben Stones).
Was Bill’s legacy as a war hero appropriately preserved once MI5’s mission reached completion? I’ll leave that up to you. But Operation Mincemeat offers audiences a madcap whirlwind of a Second World War thriller – with hummable songs and a terrific cast to boot – and, despite the sequin-spangled odds, couldn’t be better calibrated to the intricacies of the history at hand.