2 – 14 March

This touring version of Operation Mincemeat, directed by Georgie Staight, is guaranteed to bring it further plaudits to add to its Tony Award, double Olivier Award and many five star reviews already garnered in the West End and on Broadway. It is based on a true, if scarcely believable, story. In 1943, MI5 obtained the body of Glyndwr Michael, a homeless man who had died from eating rat poison, disguised him as the entirely fictitious Captain William Martin, and via a submarine, set him drifting off the coast of Spain, where German intelligence officers eagerly read the documents in his briefcase that revealed an allied invasion was planned to land on Sardinia. This caused the Germans to move forces from Sicily to Sardinia, leaving Sicily lightly defended, where the actual landing took place. It was an extraordinarily audacious and possibly morally dubious scheme, like something out of a James Bond novel, and a rather delicious detail is that Ian Fleming was a member of MI5 at the time.

It might be thought even more audacious to turn that story into a musical comedy, but that is what SpitLip have done, describing their show as a ‘story of hope, of joy and of abject silliness in the face of fear.’ It is all of that, and surely much needed in a time once again beset with war. Performing gender-blind, five energetic actors take on a bewildering multiplicity of roles, though the focus is on Charles Cholmondeley (Morgan Phillips – endearingly nerdy) who thinks up the plan, and Ewen Montagu (Holly Sumpton – wonderfully macho) who forcefully convinces sceptical higher-ups to approve it. They are presented as a comically mismatched duo.  Cholmondeley is nervous, unworldly and socially inept, while Montagu brashly exudes public school confidence and a lack of moral scruples. ‘Some are born to follow, but we are born to lead’ is the first song’s refrain, and Montagu epitomises that sense of middle-class male entitlement, made more worthy of mockery by him being played by a female actor.

Many of the songs are very funny, and often delivered in rapid rap-like fashion, ably supported by a four-piece band led by Sam Sommerfeld. Particularly outrageous is Das Übermensch, the noisy, strutting RnB Nazi number that opens Act Two. It is far from tasteful, but it is fun. The tone overall is broadly comic, and there is some very slick physical comedy to match the verbal wit. Roles are frenetically swapped with blink-of-an-eye changes of costume. But the show’s most memorable moment is found in one of its quieter scenes, with the wistful ballad Dear Bill.

Here, somewhat frumpish secretary Hesther Leggett (Christian Andrews – deeply touching) reveals hitherto hidden depths as she dictates a heartbreakingly moving letter to be carried by ‘Captain Martin’ that he has received from his equally fictitious girlfriend. As the song progresses it becomes clear that Leggett herself has known both love and loss.

The final song is A Glitzy Finale, and that is indeed what we get, though there is also a moment of solemn reflection where poor Glyndwr Michael is paid due respect. The real Operation Mincemeat was quintessentially British in its inventiveness and its air of derring-do, and this show with its engaging mix of silly jokes and mockery of self-important authority is every bit as British too.

★★★★★. Mike Whitton, 10 March, 2026

Photography credit:  Matt Crockett