FringeReview UK 2024
Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime
Charles Court Opera and Jermyn Street Theatre
Genre: Fringe Theatre, Live Music, Mainstream Theatre, Musical Theatre, New Writing, Theatre
Venue: Jermyn Street Theatre
Festival: FringeReview UK
Low Down
John Savournin and David Eaton of Charles Court Opera return to Jermyn Street for Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime, directed by them and Benji Sperring till January 5th.
A sure-fire miniature epic, spanning history and damn lies. Sublimely written and with a superb cast both seasoned and fresh, the finest concentration of panto this season.
Review
Is a yearly Panto official? After their The Massive Tragedy of Madame Bovary in 2022, (now revived at Southwark) and last year’s Odyssey: A Heroic Panto, John Savournin and David Eaton of Charles Court Opera return to Jermyn Street for Napoleon: Un Petit Pantomime, directed by them and Benji Sperring till January 5th.
These Panto collaborations are a sugar-burst of wonder. Compacted like a box of sweets onto a tiny stage, the five-strong cast retell Napoleon (Matthew Kellett) as he wasn’t, still less George III (Eliot Broadfoot), his feminist daughter Georgiana (who? but played by Amy J Payne) and Wellington (Jennie Jacobs): who as Georgiana discovers really wants to live with cattle; and gently cook them into – yes Beef Wellington pies. And… the unspiritual ghost of Marie-Antionette (Rosie Strobel). Who’s nominally on Napoleon’s side. Will Napoleon meet his Abba? But not only that, will the true meaning of ‘waterloo’ be his…. You know the rest.
The plot turns on Napoleon possessing the severed hand of Nelson (cue fact-checker historian puppet gets shot); the only thing to activate the vault in the underground Strand toilets. Which holds an emerald, the possessor of which cannot be stopped by any man. Does that sound a bit McDuff-ish? The Brits have to retrieve the hand.
Poor Napoleon. Kellett sparkles in the dark as a pantomimic villain with contempt for “monolingual monarchists” – the audience. His big aria to ‘I’m Still Standing’ as ‘I’m Napoleon’ comes late. Kellett relishes opportunities to contemplate one emerald to rule them all. He forms an uneasy alliance with Strobel’s Marie-Antionette. Strobel, possessed of a richly burnished soprano with a deep register, enjoys her finest moment duetting with Broadfoot to ‘Total Eclipse’ and elsewhere (she’s also exquisite at facial expressions). Broadfoot’s florid early solo to Queen’s ‘Break Free’ emerges as a paean to the fetters of kingship, slipped. Broadfoot touches sublimity in crazed vocal arabesques.
Daughter Georgiana however, who comes up with all best-laid plans, is constantly overlooked. Mezzo Payne’s fretted intelligence as Georgiana is a delight. She soon produces Cherubino’s aria as a frantic catalogue of frustration; at the end guys it as written for a male. That gives her an idea. Morphed into soldier attire Georgiana finds Wellington soon calls her ’George Michael’ or ‘George Orwell’. It ignites puns on the latter’s books or about the former… well references to Strand toilets and George Michael aren’t as right-on as they might be!
Jacobs’ Wellington emerges as a pastoral soul, unfolding to Payne’s ‘George’ – with whom a bromance is soon underway – an ambition to be a farmer surrounded by cows. And possibly a farm shop? Wellington puts down a life in the military as pre-ordained by family. So, another breaking free. Jacobs is a wonderfully contained performer, her soprano lines elegant and poised.
Nevertheless the King must be served, and owns a trick to ward off madness. The audience must join in the refrain to keep George’s wits about him. Indeed everyone’s wits are witty. I dropped my notebook scribbling down so many spoilers.
Thus a pie seduction is hatched by the British trio, who disguise themselves and journey to France. There, George and Marie-Antoinette become enamoured. Marie-Antoinette’s a sensual ghost, so how will this end? A chase back to London, the French now in disguise results in history unguessable outside this Panto. But with their fact-checking puppet killed, history’s imagination has run riot. Broadfoot and Strobel are a consummated delight in their ‘Total Eclipse’ duet. But wait for the Abba medley. And that song.
The stage is framed by instrumentalists. Guitarist Alex Menaker lounges stylishly stage-left. Opposite him, Eaton musically directs on keyboards, composer, and sound designer. Lucy Fowler produces a stylish set with opening flaps and fine use of the two doors, where brightness is to scale. Props include a couple of stage cows with rubber gloves for teats (yes a competition with two audience members looms again, another institution).
Fowler’s brilliance turns on her joy as costume designer. Uniforms are a given: her delight is the cow-themed alternative Wellington outfit in reds, whites and even shocking cow-picked pinks. And a close second, Marie-Antionette’s dress. There’s costume changes and deft puppetry. That fact-checking historian is quickly dispatched, but cows come home. Ben Pickersgill’s lighting keeps the production bright. There’s little need for panto garishness this time.
A sure-fire miniature epic, spanning history and damn lies, this year’s panto is less epically silly than last year’s Odyssey, but doesn’t return to the relative sanity of The Massive Tragedy of Madame Bovary! It hardly matters where on the sanity dial Charles Court pantos sit, they’re sublimely written and with a superb cast both seasoned and fresh, the finest concentration of panto this season.
Swing Rochelle Jack, Choreographer Merry Holden, Costume Supervisor Molly Fraser, Assistant Sound Designer Ali Taie, Sound Operator Zac Nicholls, Stage Manager Octavia Penes,
