'Operation Mincemeat' in Toronto: One of the best musicals since 'Hamilton' - Toronto Star

This new musical about a Second World War deception mission is brilliantly constructed, even if somewhat lacking in execution on tour. 

The North American touring company of “Operation Mincemeat,” now playing at Mirvish’s Royal Alexandra Theatre in Toronto. 

After “Hamilton” opened on Broadway in 2015, one question dominated the cultural conversation: Would Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop phenomenon change the genre of musical theatre?

Would it have the same effect as shows such as “Show Boat,” which demonstrated the capacity for musicals to explore serious, dramatic themes; or “Jesus Christ Superstar,” the first major rock opera on Broadway; or “Rent,” which paved the way for other daring, socially conscious musicals like “Next to Normal” and “Spring Awakening”? 

“Hamilton” didn’t mark the start of a trend; it was merely a lonely outlier. In the years following its premiere, the dominant sound on Broadway was not hip-hop, but that of the unstoppable jukebox. Even among the so-called prestige musicals, writers shied away from telling big, epic stories in favour of smaller, quieter, more introspective ones. With shows like “The Band’s Visit,” “Maybe Happy Ending,” “Kimberly Akimbo” and even “Hadestown,” which turned an epic myth into a slight yet effective romantic tragedy, the project of musical theatre, once the genre of warhorses, has never felt so much like a porcelain figurine.

Now enter the 2023 West End hit “Operation Mincemeat,” the wildly entertaining and surprisingly moving musical comedy by David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts, about the Second World War deception mission of the same name, which saw the Brits fool Hitler into believing that the Allies were planning a Sardinian invasion, when they were, in fact, intending to capture Sicily. Arriving in Toronto some 11 years after “Hamilton” burst onto Broadway, it may be the closest thing we get to a successor to Miranda’s genre-busting musical. 

It’s not only that both works feature rap (though it’s far less prominent in “Operation Mincemeat” than in “Hamilton”). What these two shows share most is their breathless ambition — a willingness to handle their respective subjects not with white velvet gloves, but with jackhammers and power tools, throwing any and all caution to the wind.

For both musicals, regurgitating history is worthless if it doesn’t have something to say about the world we live in now. Just as “Hamilton” isn’t merely about America’s founding, “Operation Mincemeat” is about more than its namesake mission. 

Katie Kleiger as Ewen Montagu & Others in “Operation Mincemeat.” 

If anything, the show’s engaging history lesson — about how the MI5 planted the body of a fake Allied soldier named “Bill Martin,” carrying fabricated military plans, in the hands of the Nazis in order to deceive them — is a Trojan Horse used to delve into more timeless questions: Who gets to write history and who has to pull it off? Whose contributions are recognized and whose are forgotten?

The tone of “Operation Mincemeat” is one of blithe irreverence. In a very British sort of way, there’s an undercurrent of class commentary and skepticism toward rules and authority. 

For the story this musical tells, it makes complete sense that its most grotesque characters are the ones who make the rules. Ewen Montagu (Katie Kleiger), the naval intelligence officer who co-developed Operation Mincemeat, is depicted here as an insufferable, entitled jerk. “We are made to give the orders / While lesser men take heed / For some were born to follow / But we were born to lead,” he sings in the musical’s opening number, essentially a rallying cry for snooty Eton schoolboys. His collaborator, meanwhile, Charles Cholmondeley (Jake Bentley Young), comes across as a tad more sympathetic but is largely written as a jittery dork. 

The duo’s presence may help to move the narrative forward, but the writers of “Operation Mincemeat” aren’t concerned with telling Ewen and Charles’ stories. To learn more about them and their achievements, go read Montagu’s various memoirs, or watch the multiple historical dramas made about Operation Mincemeat, the musical’s creators seem to suggest. 

Instead, the writers focus on the people hidden in the woodwork, whose contributions were crucial to the success of the operation. As in the best musicals, Cumming, Hagan, Hodgson and Roberts do a marvellous job of world-building, expanding outward, adding secondary and tertiary characters, all without compromising the integrity of their core story. 

It’s revealing that the show’s most affecting solo is afforded not to Ewen nor Charles, but to Hester Leggatt (Luke Anthony Neville), a senior secretary at MI5 who wrote the fake love letters planted on Bill Martin’s corpse — letters that draw from her experience years ago, as the spouse of a soldier fighting in what she believed was the war to end all wars. Another stirring number: “Useful,” a duet between Hester and a young secretary named Jean Leslie (Erin Ramirez), who realizes her efforts may never be recognized, yet are essential nonetheless. 

Jake Bentley Young as Charles Cholmondeley & Others in “Operation Mincemeat.”

In a show with one standout number after another, bouncing from pop and hip-hop to K-pop and rugged sea shanties, those two songs — Hester’s solo and her duet with Jean — exemplify the best of the “Operation Mincemeat” score, and how it pairs Miranda-esque pith with playfully Sondheimian rhymes. 

If all this makes the musical sound high-minded, then I’m selling the show short. “Operation Mincemeat” is at once highbrow and lowbrow, plus all the fun in between, with a comedic sensibility that borrows from the traditions of Monty Python and British panto. It’s the musical equivalent of that kid who’s the class clown, but who every so often nonchalantly drops a nugget of wisdom, proving he’s actually the smartest student in the room.

That “Operation Mincemeat” is so deceptively smart and poignant seems only appropriate for a show about, well, the art of deception. 

Deceptive, too, is director Robert Hastie’s production, featuring five actors playing a multitude of characters. There’s an improvisational air to the entire proceedings, mirroring the sense of improvisation that those real MI5 agents must have felt while hatching Operation Mincemeat. 

But lean in closer and you come to appreciate just how carefully detailed and plotted Hastie’s production really is — from Ben Stones’ array of period costumes and multi-faceted set, to the militaristic precision of Mark Henderson’s lighting designs, with the crispness of a freshly starched uniform.

It’s unfortunate that, in execution, the quality of the new touring production now docked at Toronto’s Royal Alexandra Theatre can’t quite match the strength of the material. Individually, the five actors are all accomplished performers. Neville, in particular, delivers a master-class in restraint as Hester, while Mariah Copeland draws big laughs in a variety of small roles, especially as a bumbling British diplomat stationed in Spain.

But together, the ensemble occasionally flags. There’s an uncomfortable rigidity to bits of the physical comedy and a slackness to some of the accent work (particularly from the Americans in the cast). When they’re saddled with Jenny Arnold’s busy choreography, the cast starts to tighten up ever so slightly, as if they’re thinking a few too many steps ahead. They also aren’t helped by some of the most slapdash sound mixing I’ve heard at the Royal Alexandra Theatre, rendering much of the lyrics in the group numbers totally indecipherable. (The sound design is by Mike Walker.) 

Luke Antony Neville as Hester Leggatt in “Operation Mincemeat.”

Toronto was set to host the North American premiere of “Operation Mincemeat” several years ago, which was meant to serve as a pre-Broadway tryout with the show’s original cast (which included co-creators Cumming, Hodgson and Roberts). It’s a pity those plans fell through before they were publicly announced.

Still, kinks and all, this touring production is the next best thing. There’s also something special about the show’s Canadian premiere arriving at this particular moment. 

In times of national adversity, it’s easy for our attention to focus exclusively on the decision-makers and those in power, only to neglect the real people who bear the cost of these conflicts. For every Ewen and Charles, there are thousands of Jeans, Hesters and Glyndwr Michaels (a.k.a. Bill Martin). 

“If it’s down, it’s down together / If it’s up, it’s up as one,” goes an oft-repeated refrain in the show. It’s a message that we would all be wise to heed. 

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Joshua Chong is a Toronto-based arts critic and culture reporter for the Star. Follow him on X: @joshualdwchong.