Review by Marilyn Lester…
When it comes to satiric stage humor, there’s little argument that the Brits have a good lock on the genre. Think about Noises Off, The Goes Wrong franchise, Beyond the Fringe and Spamalot to name a very, very few. The latest of these comedic romps, Operation Mincemeat, a huge hit in London’s West End, follows that tradition of wacky fun—a screwball comedy that’s dead brilliant. But more than that, dig deeper and the bets are on that this musical is the one that Sir Arthur Sullivan and W.S. Gilbert would have written were they around today, featuring an inventive plot full of wit, satire, word-play, social commentary and colorful characters singing, dancing and generally chewing up the scenery. Operation Mincemeat is, to its core, a welcome and needed respite from a real world far more chimerical.
The plot is based on an absolutely true story, itself quirky and Gilbertian. In 1943, during the Second World War, military strategists needed a plan to thwart German movement into Sicily. Operation Mincemeat was devised—a deception operation involving a corpse with a briefcase full of decoy plans. It’s a macabre tale in its own right in a life-or-death time of war, but in the hands of the comedy group SpitLip, who wrote and composed the piece, that kookiness is not only front and center but also smartly balanced by serious moments and ultimately sensitivity to the gravity of the operation. SplitLip members and creators David Cumming, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts are joined by Jak Malone and Claire-Marie Hall. These five actors play a total of 82 characters (of both sexes) with awe-inspiring talent and precision, and perfect timing through fast-moving action and rapid-fire costume changes. Caps off to director Robert Hastie for keeping the pace swift and all the gears in this clockwork production well-oiled and finely working.
The principal characters in Operation Mincemeat are based on real persons, although delivered through the lens of farce. The brain trust who devised the plan, Charles Cholmondeley, is given mad scientist eccentricity by an often over-the-top David Cumming. Its overseer, Johnny Bevan Is the stiff-upper-lip sort, played by Zoë Roberts, while the head of operation, Ewen Montagu is played to smarmy old-boy privileged perfection by Natasha Hodgson. General dogs bodies/secretaries are played by Claire-Marie Hall and Jak Malone. But all of these actors double, triple and quadruple ad infinitum through a blur of roles accompanied by farcical entrances and exits and rapid-fire costume changes. A running gag is about one of the men who worked on the project: Ian Fleming, then a naval intelligence officer, and the references to his future as the creator of 007, James Bond, guarantee guffaws throughout
Musical numbers, while well-staged and energetic for the most part, are mainly vehicles for smart lyrics. The opener, “Born to Lead” is a shot across the bow of the British class system, with haute irony skewering the Eton-educated elites who came up with the plan and “led” it. Likewise, with an arrow pointed at misogyny, “All the Ladies” allows how the war opened up opportunities for the female sex, shellacking male idiocy in the process. But what will go down as perhaps the most memorable song in the production is “Dear Bill,” sung by Malone (who rises most memorably to the top in the show) with heartfelt depth—for the corpse has been given a precise identity as a British pilot, a Royal Marine officer, Captain (Acting Major) William Martin. Among the papers planted on the body, to be discovered by the Nazis, are love letters, the aching “Dear Bill” among them. Ending Act One, in which the body is deployed, “Just for Tonight” makes a meaningful theatrical splash, respectful of the solemnity of Mincemeat’s purpose, switching cleverly between the Mincemeat team in London and the officers and seamen on the submarine deploying the body. But was the operation a success? The overly long Act Two takes its time in the reveal, opening with a barn-burner of a K-Pop-ish tune and The Producers take-off in “Das Übermensch,” which should have a rethink about its potentially insensitive lyric. A sensational false finale, skewering musical theater itself, “A Glitzy Finale” is great, uber-glitzy fun.
Operation Mincemeat, a chancy wartime endeavor, was a success, well chronicled in history and in a memoir by Montagu (also spoofed in the show). And so in wrapping up the parody, a serious nod to the respect owed to all concerned, was more than appropriate. The true finale, a post script, if you will, was a deep thank you to the real people who devised and executed the plan, and to “the man who never was,” a hidden hero: “His name was Glyndwr Michael.”
SplitLip’s delightful Operation Mincemeat rose from a Fringe hit to a five-year success in the West End. Perhaps, like The Pirates of Penzance or The Mikado, it too will be revived decades in the future. Meanwhile, the show’s popularity, now on Broadway, is owing not only to the creators of the show but the supporting personnel: musicians Joe Bunker, Joshua Zecher-Ross, Mark Verdino and Dan Berkery; choreographer Jenny Arnold; set and costume designer Ben Stones; lighting designer Mark Henderson and sound designer Mike Walker.
Operation Mincemeat at The Golden Theatre, 252 W 45th Street New York, NY, runs about approximately 2 hours 35 minutes including a 20 minute intermission. Tickets are available through February 2026.
Photos by Julieta Cervantes
