Edinburgh Fringe 2024
A Jaffa Cake Musical
Gigglemug Theatre
Genre: Comedy, Musical Theatre, New Writing
Venue: Pleasance Courtyard
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
Biscuit or cake? Cake or biscuit? Surely this is the most important question the human race needs to answer? Gigglemug Theatre turn an essentially dry, technical tax case involving a small, relatively obscure part of the UK’s labyrinthine VAT regulations into an entertaining musical featuring an hour of carefully crafted, exquisitely lyrical songs.
Review
Biscuit or cake? Cake or biscuit? Forget climate change and all the other stuff going on in the world – surely this is the most important question the human race needs to answer? As an erstwhile accountant and something of a tax/VAT nerd, I’d have to agree with these, the opening lines in multi-award winning Gigglemug Theatre’s latest offering, A Jaffa Cake Musical.
Surely you remember this landmark case from 1991 in which Mr Donald Potter QC opined in favour of the defendants, McVities, accepting their proposition that the contents of the said comestible made it more cake than biscuit, thereby creating a VAT hole in prosecutor HMRC’s coffers? And Jaffa Cakes go hard when left out of the tin. Biscuits go soft. So they’re cakes!
You’d forgotten about it? Where have you been these past 30 years? Why, there was even a tax adviser sitting in front of me at the show who was looking for something amusing to stick into her latest client tax update.
Gigglemug Theatre has a burgeoning reputation for creating seriously silly songs to write musicals featuring household brands but quite how they’ve managed to turn what was essentially a dry, technical tax case involving a small, relatively obscure part of our labyrinthine VAT regulations into an entertaining yet pinpointedly accurate musical is beyond me. But in sixty minutes featuring thirty carefully crafted, exquisitely lyrical songs and reprises, they did just that, to the obvious enjoyment and appreciation of yet another Fringe packed house, this time down at the Pleasance Courtyard.
We’re greeted with a blank stage, save for Alex Prescot stood at the keyboard, happily jamming and riffing away to provide a bit of noise as we scramble for a seat, squeezed together in tight rows like, well, biscuits (sorry, cakes) in a packet. But we’re soon into the swing of things with our four strong cast (two male, two female) basically relating, in considerable detail and with great accuracy, the main points raised by prosecution and defence in one of the most bizarre and memorable cases in legal history.
It’s a quality performance from start to finish. For a start, they can all sing, solo or in company. They can all act as well. And dance. But that’s musical theatre I suppose, one of the most difficult of the performing arts to master given you’re often required to do all three of these things at the same time.
Sam Cochrane (Kevin, the defence counsel), who also wrote the thing, was enchantingly vulnerable yet with a determination to prevail, and Harry Miller (Jake, the McVities’ representative) appropriately urbane. Sabrina Messer (Katherine, prosecuting counsel) has a sublimely mellifluous voice, a great range and perfect control and pitch. And she can dance with the best of them. Alex Prescot, in addition to his peerless playing, also found time to don a judge’s wig at appropriate moments.
But the real “villain” of the piece was the pantominesque Katie Pritchard (the tax man) who, for me at least, had the most memorable number entitled, appropriately enough “Tax Man”. Great voice, superb comic timing and the ability to deliver a number of delightful character vignettes when not being the voice of the evil HMRC.
The musical genre includes ballad, rap, boogie and several others, a potpouri of tempos and emotions, each number laced with lyrics which move the story along and amuse at the same time. And some of the stanzas just have to be heard to be believed. Who of sane mind is going to come up with something funny to rhyme with HMRC, for heavens sake?
It’s a really slick production too. Ali James’ attention to detail is evident in the smooth segues, tight choreography and creative use of the available stage space. And the icing on the cake (pardon the pun) was the way the troupe switched pianists mid-tune and whilst the thing was rattling along apace. That must take a bit of practice.
The set needs mention with its liberal splatterings of bright orange (naturally), a design that created the impression of a courtroom that, as part of the denouement, flipped into a giant……..no, no spoilers here. Either read the original case transcript (yep, I went back and hunted it out) or roll up and see what happens yourself.
This is a high quality piece of musical theatre right from its pulsating start to the well crafted denouement, one that I’d highly recommend you squeeze into your packed Fringe schedule. It really does take the biscuit. ‘Erm, I mean cake.
