H.M.S. Pinafore
When I was a lad, enamored with Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, the stagings were slavishly ‘traditional’ - W.S Gilbert’s original 19th century direction remained the increasingly stale holy grail for enthusiasts. Thankfully, times have changed.
Since the handbrake of copyright was released, Gilbert’s satirical topsy turvy scripts and Sullivan’s delightful scores have had many a new interpretation, or fresh coat of paint.
Early on, Kate Gaul’s production of H.M.S. Pinafore simply promises to be a little unconventional, given the saucy PR imagery. True, the impeccably uniformed sailors’ eyeshadow is a touch OTT, but otherwise the initial surprises aren’t huge. Performers doubling on various instruments remind you of Once and other recent small ensemble musical productions. There’s gender-bending, sure, but it’s classic pantomime – Thomas Campbell’s Buttercup is the ‘Dame’, while romantic lead Ralph Rackstraw becomes a ‘pants role’, ardently played by Billie Palin.
A smaller than usual retinue of mischievous mustachioed sisters, cousins and aunts (Bobbie Jean Henning and Elora Ledger), heralds Sir Joseph Porter’s entrance, shifting the gears on the production.
Soon this Pinafore morphs from Portsmouth to Oxford Street at Mardi Gras and we’re very definitely ‘In the Navy’, as Campbell’s Buttercup drag becomes more outrageous and the sailors seem to have stepped out of (or is it into) 'HMS Priscilla'.
No matter how zany and tongue in cheek the production becomes, though, musically the evening is a treat, capably accompanied by Music Director Antonio Fernandez on piano, complemented by various cast members. There’s a fun new spin on the overture. The small ensemble delivers intimate and delightful takes on familiar harmonies. Guitar accompaniment freshens up the First Lord’s well-known patter song.
As Josephine, Hannah Greenshields’ soprano is comic opera heroine perfection. Josef Ber’s spot-on Sir Joseph Porter nails the pomposity and precisely articulates the patter. Tobias Cole’s Captain Corcoran has the requisite balance of warmth, officer’s bearing and dignity. Sean Hall’s Dick Deadeye is pure melodrama. The whole ensemble ensures a fun, frolicsome evening, with Designer Melanie Liertz’s set and Lighting Design by Becky Russell creating a fanciful alternate Pinafore universe for those frolics. Ash Bee’s choreography melds acknowledgement of G & S tradition, often cheekily, with the production’s morph to Mardi Gras.
The usual smattering of topical updates aside, the 140-year-old script and lyrics remain remarkably intact, yet in Kate Gaul’s delicious production, love has the power to level barriers well beyond mere social rank. It’s a marvelous, uplifting interpretation.
Leaving the theatre at the end this rainbow and glitter celebration of diversity, I couldn’t help but think back to a night nearly 50 years ago, when I was a lad serving my term in the chorus of a very traditional G & S production. After closing night, we headed over to Capriccio’s nightclub on Oxford Street where two of the company’s former chorus boys were starring in their drag show. I never dreamed back in 1974 that I’d ever see those two worlds mesh so delightfully.
Neil Litchfield
Photographer: Jacquie Manning
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