No 43 -- 1995 Edited by Michael Walters
Dame Hilda Brackett as Katisha - would it, could it work? I asked myself. After all Dame Hilda is not an actor, but a character. Could a character portray another character? Could Patrick Fyffe play both Dame Hilda and Katisha at the same time; or would the result be merely Mr. Fyffe as Katisha, or Dame Hilda in a kimono? Could one imagine Lady Jane playing Katisha or the Duchess of Plaza Toro playing Lady Sangazure? Would there be any point in attempting the exercise? The only sort of attempt at this kind of thing that I could think of was in plays within plays where the characters in the main play assume the characters in the inner play. But in this situation, both the main characters and the characters in the inner play were written, and therefore manipulated, by the same author. But MIKADO is not a play within a play, and Katisha was not written with the intention that she should be played by Dame Hilda. So would it work? These were some of the thoughts that went through my mind as I waited to see the performance.
The answer is that fundamentaly, it didn't work. It was Dame Hilda in a kimono, and she sang with more breaks and gear changes than Dame Clara Butt. The production was typical of Fenton Gray, I suppose (but I missed seeing him as Ko-Ko, he sang only three of the seven performances at Richmond). There were some very funny things in the production, but most of it had little style or raison d'etre, it was, like most modern productions, a mish-mash of bits which did not mean much. Some of them were unashamedly borrowed - like the gimmic where every character on stage shouts "Hah! Mikado!" (? = Heil Hitler) every time the Emperor's name is mentioned. This was quite funny when it first appeared in the Canadian production that came to the Old Vic in the 1980s, it seemed somehow to fit into the anbience of that frenetic production. But it has outstayed its welcome - here it was dragged in for no obvious reason.
No, no, the star of the production for me was Barry Clark as Nanki-Poo. I have waited nearly 20 years now for the chance to see him play a principal part (see GG .....) His voice is a serviceable one, and fairly strong, though I would not have described it as particularly beautiful, or even particularly distinctive. However, as a performance, his Nanki-Poo was one of the best I have ever seen, with an unusually exuberant sense of humour. Moreover, he was almost the only person on stage who played his part straight, everyone else guyed and gimmicked, and most of them overacted. The Mikado (John Polhamus) was fairly low-key in delivery, but sang well, danced frenetically during his song, and spoke his dialogue in what appeared to be an imitation of the film actor James Stewart. He did it rather well, but why did he do it? What did it mean? Ko-Ko (Peter Molloy) left me absolutely cold. There were some very subtle effects in the delivery of his dialogue, and he knew how to get laughs - but not for a moment did the slightest suggestion of a personality emerge. One did not laugh or cry at the thought of his being saddled with Katisha, because he had done nothing to make one care. Yet, as I left the theatre I heard some old ladies remark that he was the best Ko-Ko they had seen. Pish-Tush (Duncan Brown) sang strongly, but twisted his mouth and eyes into all sorts of peculiar shapes, for no reason which I could determine. The three little maids were peculiar. Peep-bo (Alison Charlton-West) was a bitchy creature in glasses, Pitti-Sing (Pauline Birchall) mimicked in hair-style and voice Sue Pollard from "Hi-de-hi". Again why? Yum-Yum (Sally-Ann Shepherdson) was evidently a caricature as well, with a rather common voice, but I was not familiar with whoever it was she was supposed to be. There was no Go-To. Pooh-Bah (David Kirkby-Ashmore) was young, fresh-faced and exuberant. He was in no way haughty and exclusiver, as he claimed, but definitely one of the lads. At the end of the "big black block" the orchestra moved into the closing bars of "Nessun Dorma", and Pooh-Bah came forwards and grinned ingratiatingly like Pavarotti, while bouquets were thrown on to the stage. Very cheap humour.
Other than the lapse of taste just mentioned, the musical side was excellent. Simon Gray (Fenton's brother) conducted with care, and the tempi were well-judged. The ladies chorus was particularly good, and the singing of "Comes a teain of little ladies" was absolutely exquisite. The overture was omitted.
As to Dame Hilda. Well, what is the purpose of sending up a character of this kind, other than to make the role a vehicle for an egocentric performer. The ending of Act 1 was definitely a lapse of taste. The music ended with Katisha on a high platform, striking an attitude in a spotlight. Silence. "Curtain" she/he shouted. Nothing. "Curtain" she shouted again. Then she looked up into the flies and cried "What do you mean, it's stuck?" Then muttering complaints about her performance being ruined by having to walk off the stage, she descended and stomped off. Gimmicky. The scene in act 2 with Ko-Ko was just dull, at one point in it she went into an imitation of Bette Davies. Again WHY? Nevertheless, it was a production I was glad I hadn't missed, purely out of curiosity.
MICHAEL WALTERS
Web page created 26 July 1998