***** Operation Mincemeat
Cutting-edge retro-satire from the cutups of London’s SplitLip collective
Zoë Roberts, Jak Malone, Natasha Hodgson, David Cumming, and Claire-Marie Hall. Photo: Julieta Cervantes
You know how some days – perhaps in the midst of a clumsy, unsubtle putsch – you’re just not in the mood to be amused by a kickline of mock-Nazis in spangled Third Reich regalia?
Understandable – but don’t let a natural antipathy dissuade you from seeing this brilliant, Pythonesque tale based on a true World War II story, in which the corpse of a little-known soldier was put into service as a plant to inveigle the Wehrmacht into abandoning its hold on Sicily in favor of sleepy Sardinia (no one’s idea of a strategic stronghold).
That’s the basic gist, and director Robert Hastie delivers it briskly. We noncombatant onlookers don’t really need to know every twitch in the plan, but five crack performers, collectively shouldering eighty-odd roles, manage to map out the scheme – and its attendant perils – clearly enough to keep us on edge.
Will the designated dweeb, entomology-hobbyist Charles Cholmondeley (donkey-toothed, top-knotted David Cumming) ever get the ear of Ewen Montagu (Natasha Hodgson), the very image of an Eton-bred egotistical elitist? Can tiny, timid Jean Leslie (Claire-Marie Hall, who can power-sing like a siren mid-Blitz) manage to escape the steno pool in time to save the day? What’s the deal with her supervisor, up-tight Hester Leggatt (Jak Malone), with her fierce forehead spit curl and old-school submissive mien? What might it take to get Hester to step up? Prepare to have your heart wrenched when she does, singing about simple quotidian details in a letter to “Dear Bill.”
The plot twists clench ever tighter when the locale switches to Spain, where the washed-up corpse – its briefcase stuffed with carefully skewed bits of misinformation – stalls out at the city morgue, unclaimed and unexamined. How will the sweaty, dimwitted consul (Zoë Roberts) manage to get the repurposed remains into the right – which is to say enemy – hands?
The creators and cast know how to bring the antic story home, and a coda explicates the factual, real-life ruse, while providing the backstory of the hitherto unsung hero – just an ordinary Bill with bad luck. And might there be budget enough left for “a glitzy finale”? You bet, with bells on, plus pratfalls and sight gags galore. Undaunted, the doughty Brits sing on.
On Broadway, to August 18
NB: Playgoers as young as five are welcome but I’d recommend waiting until a child has a basic understanding of World War II.