There’s so much detail, and so much of it leads to laughs. The entire show is played as if these were school children acting out their roles there’s a warm and easy camaraderie between these actors which is a joy to watch. As we’ve come to expect from Sasha Regan’s all-male company, it’s a high-camp, comedic affair, but not tastelessly so. Alas, both are engaged to wed others – over the ensuing two hours we watch their stories unfold to see if they can attain their happily ever after.
who falls for Miss Violet Plumb (Sam Kipling). we are introduced to Bertie Hugh (Declan Egan). The action is inventively arrayed across multiple levels, making best use of this unique venue, and it’s all sparklingly delightful. Every detail of costume, every prop, is linked thematically and humorously, with costumes made from picnic blankets or enamel dishes, and tents moving around left right and centre, providing opportunity for some marvellous hilarity and slapstick. We’re still in a city called Titipu, but any reference to geography is removed and the names of the characters are anglicised the lowly tailor elevated to Lord High Executioner becomes Mr Cocoa, the wandering minstrel with royal roots becomes Bertie Hugh and the man taking on every office of state is now Albert Barr.Ĭamp indeed it is, and exploding with fun! Gorgeously exaggerated characterisation and Ryan Dawson Laight’s fastidious design work fit superbly alongside the Music Hall’s historic splendour. As night falls the dressing up box comes out and the familiar tale begins to unfold. Some neat changes to the opening number, If you want to know who we are helps set the scene. There’s a lone tent on stage with a backdrop of trees, and we find ourselves in the midst of a boys camping trip – a private school or Scout troupe perhaps. This particular Gilbert and Sullivan classic has become problematic for anyone wanting to revive it, Sasha Regan swerves all of this by setting it in England and thus satirising the establishment even more blatantly than the original did with its heavy Oriental styles. Let's hear the views of the reviewers, which echo my own.
We thoroughly enjoyed last year's production HMS Pinafore, and so there was a huge buzz of anticipation of what was in store. We had another little "gathering of the clans" last night, for the latest production by Sacha Regan, the all-male Mikado at the fantabulosa Wilton's Music Hall. And you drank a bottle of Merrydown a night. This idea that processed food is unhealthy must be bollocks because this is all you ate as a student and you were in the best shape of your life. Nobody imagined Honey Nut Loops were harvested from the wild as is, but what’s the alternative? Bacon’s been ruled out, white bread’s been ruled out, crisps have been ruled out, so what are we meant to eat first thing? Fruit? Have you seen how much fucking about is involved in preparing a single melon? As long as you only have a microwave tikka masala after a 10k run, which you don’t, you’ll be fine. What’s the alternative? Cook for yourself? Be Nigel Slater and always have a bowl of asparagus hearts in olive oil you can prepare for a simple ten-minute supper? Bollocks to that. You could trade it for carrot sticks and hummus but hummus is pretty processed, so may as well stick with the old friend you’ve known will be the death of you for years than mess about. Nobody munching down a bag has any illusions. Yours especially.Ĭrisps are not found in nature, especially not in sweet chilli flavour. But are you ready to start eating granary and end up as sanctimonious and delusional as Gwyneth Paltrow? No, life’s too short. Wheat, it seems, does not come in boring brown and tasty, sugary white varieties. Who needs an extra three months doddering anyway? While a bacon sandwich may strip three months from you down the line, it gives you a hungover morning back. All rights reserved.Studies warn that ultra-processed foods will take years off your life expectancy, to which Britons have responded by opening a packet of Hob-Nobs:įor years you believed bacon came simply flayed directly from the pig, but apparently they do stuff like soaking it in salt and delicious, moreish nitrates.
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