Operation Mincemeat review

Creators Felix Hagan and writer-performers Natasha Hodgson, Zoë Roberts and David Cumming draw on many musical-theatre styles, from Six to The Producers, with each song wearing its pastiche proudly. There are lyrics that would put some of the greatest shows to shame; there’s even a pumping EDM number for a squadron of sequinned Nazis.

Director Robert Hastie, recently brought on board, brings a huge amount to the production without sacrificing its winning simplicity. The performers zip between characters, Ben Stones’ design a green graph-paper backdrop, while a blackboard, desk and a couple of chairs whip on and off. That allows for tight choreography from Jenny Arnold, as well as fabulous slapstick scenes involving crossed telephone wires, quick changes, kick lines and much more. 

So much, in fact, that you can genuinely forget there are only five in the cast. They just go for it: huge facial expressions, beautifully weird delivery of lines for maximum comic effect, clownish movement. No scenery is left unchewed. Hodgson steals scenes as the swaggering Ewen Montagu, whose unwavering confidence in himself – the result of an expensive elite education – drives him to dream up the outlandish plot with Cumming’s nerdy, nervy Charles Cholmondeley. And just when the show hits peak toff-ribbing ridiculousness, suddenly in comes the beautiful ballad Dear Bill, a love letter to the corpse, performed gorgeously by Jak Malone’s prim secretary Hester, who has suffered her own wartime loss. 

It is that balance of comedy and heart that is this show’s great strength, and with a couple of new songs and a stronger book, it is better than ever. A brilliant spy thriller, a brilliant comedy, and a brilliant musical all rolled into one, it is exhilarating to see it hit the West End.