Customer Reviews

Gilbert & Sullivan's The Mikado / English National Opera [VHS]

5 star:		(26)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(9)

 

 

You would think that it was a match made in heaven. After all, Gilbert & Sullivan were the 19th century version of Monty Python, with delightfully silly things that let you laugh at things that really didn't matter.

Eric Idle is, in fact, among the best things about this version of the Mikado. There are moments when he falls out of the role of Lord High Executioner and into the Minister of Silly Walks, but I think we all *hope* for that. That isn't what's disappointing here.

The worst thing about this DVD is the sound quality. If you don't know all the words to the Mikado (based on many listening to a D'Orly Carte CD), you won't have the first idea what the people are singing here and you will have NO idea what is going on. It's that bad. (If you *do* know the words, you'll be exhausted at the end of the opera, because your ears will have worked overtime for the last two hours.)

In part, the sound quality is a reflection of the "movie making," such as it is. This show is the result of a few people with movie cameras photographing a stage play (unlike, say, the Pirates of Penzance movie with Linda Ronstadt and Kevin Kline, which is truly a movie... and darned good, too). Occasionally, the cameraman found it necessary to get "creative," which in this case was not a good idea.

The other issue is the creative decision to place the opera in England, in a 1920s-30s cross between Hollywood (the Mikado himself as Fatty Arbuckle) and the Ascot Races from My Fair Lady. It doesn't work very well for me, because the absurdity of Englishmen in Japanese kimonos is part of the appeal of the Mikado, for me. But maybe I'm just an old fuddy-duddy in this regard.

I'm almost done with this review and I've said very little about the performance. Mostly, it's because one can barely hear it. However, Eric Idle does a decent job of singing his part (I don't think we were expecting Caruso), and most of the cast does a good-to-excellent job. None of it is jarring -- if only I could hear it!

The major "extra" on the DVD is a "making of" feature in which the camera records the stage rehearsals. It's fun, and since the sound quality is so much better, I enjoyed several of those performances more!

Should you buy this? Maybe. If you're a die-hard fan of G&S or the Monty Python crew, it's worth watching, once. I'm not really sorry I got this, just that it didn't live up to expectations. On the other hand, if you want the full entertainment of the Mikado, there are probably better recordings. (In fact, the subset you get from the fiction-ish G&S bio, Topsy Turvy, has a much better presentation of the opera.)

I remember this from HBO when I was young. It made a big impression on me then, and makes a big one now that I have finally seen it again, with all the knowledge of Gilbert & Sullivan that I've acquired over the years. The set design and costumes are wonderful, and the English seaside setting is clever if not particularly meaningful in and of itself. The video effects are fairly ham-handed, but don't detract from the stage show which is, in a word, delightful. This is quite simply the most hilariously funny "Mikado" available on video. Richard Angas in the title role lends the Mikado a certain sinister seediness (and his costume is amazing). Eric Idle does a great Ko-Ko, putting his patent insincerity to good use, and putting to rest any quibbles about stunt casting. The rest of the cast and chorus are equally outstanding. Most notably, Felicity Palmer's Katisha and Richard van Allen's Pooh-Bah are as close to definitive as I can imagine (both later reprised the roles on the delightful Mackerras recording). Ms. Palmer deserves special mention, as she milks Katisha for all the humor and pathos she's worth, while delivering the demanding vocal passages in a ringing mezzo voice. It's a shame there's not a traditional Japanese-dress "Mikado" on par with this one, but I have no difficulty in saying that for casual viewers and Savoyards alike, this should be at the top of everyone's "little list."

The best sung and most intelligently staged Mikado available on video is marred by obtrusively lame direction for television that makes some bits almost unwatchable. But let's dwell instead on the production's many virtues. Jonathan Miller's resetting is brilliant. Gilbert needed an an exotic location (Japan) to parody contemporary Victorian England, but in our era a 1920s British seaside resort affords all the distance in time and manners that parody requires. Not having to act in an "artless Japanese way" (apologies to Yum-Yum) seems to have freed the performers to take over the characters body and soul, to speak, move, and sing as if effortlessly yet very expressively. Van Allan (Pooh-Bah), Palmer (Katisha), and Garrett (Yum-Yum) put the lie to the notion that opera singers can't do G&S. Bonaventure Bottone is the only convincing Nanki-Poo I've seen. Eric Idle, the name draw of the production, blows hot and cold as Ko-Ko. In Act 1 he can't seem to get ahold of the character and goes for empty gags as if it were a 30-second Python sketch, but in Act 2 he buys into the role and brings off his big scenes with the Mikado and Katisha beautifully. The splendid choreography with the chorus--the Busby Berkeleyish tap dancing in the finales is a hoot--makes good use of the period sets which, even though mainly black and white, are pure eye candy. But I missed the kind of imaginative blocking-out of trios and quartets that you get in some other productions (like the Act 2 madrigal in the Stratford production); Miller has the performers huddled together as if against a stiff ocean breeze. It was a relief, though, to be spared the frantic cliched gesturing with which G&S performers typically accompany their songs (the gestures are meant to tell the story in lieu of the often unintelligible lyrics), as it allows them to do more natural and unexpected things with their hands. As to the TV direction, the less said the better. Just close your eyes when headless dancers appear in a thought bubble above Ko-Ko's still-attached head.

The only time I have seen this musical was on a TV station with a terrible reception quality and during a thunder storm. Even so, I recorded it and played it over and over until my brother recorded over the top of it. Needless to say, I was not happy and I've been looking for a copy now for about the last ten years, so it's brilliant that it's about to be released for sale. I thought the production was incredibly original -Jonathon Miller is so inventive - although obviously if you're a lover of the traditional Mikado then it may not be what you're looking for. Eric Idle of Monty Python was great - he really brought the musical to life with his humour, and his voice was great as well. In fact, my drama school was so impressed with this version that they used some of the subtle humour for their production. I definitely recommend this video for anyone with a sense of fun. Go on, give it a try!

Just picture this:

Pooh-Bah sings in recititive "Here he comes, equipped as fits his station. He'll give you any further information" The Chorus enters and sings the stately "Behold the Lord High Executioner" then, enter Ko-Ko, the Lord High Executioner (marvelously played by Monty Python's Eric Idle), dressed for tennis.

I doubt this joke was in Sir William Gilbert's mind, but even to the purist it works. The revised "List Song" is even a breath of fresh air, as Gilbert's lyric had become obsolete and, therefore, unfunny. However, this new lyric will leave you laughing (unless you're from Austrailia, that is).

All other performances were wonderful at worst, although Nanki-Poo could have enunciated a little better. Those few dialogue cuts are not missed.

I cannot say enough about this production. It is, undoubtably, the best "Mikado" I've seen!

Director Jonathan Miller is normally an intelligent and resourceful stage director, as some of his witty comments even here on the making of this largely blighted production suggest. In the present case, sadly, he has fallen victim to a widespread delusion among contemporary opera and theater directors about the nature of how to please their audiences. He remarks that since we've by now ALL seen various productions of "The Mikado" set in the original Japan, the times cry out for a version that's radically different. Neglected in this view is the fact that in the audience of any production of even so familiar a work there will be a significant number of people who've never seen it before. For their sake, if it's still stageworthy, it deserves to be presented without being maimed by a "bright" idea. Miller, though, has presumably thought it wiser to cater instead to those sated members of the potential audience who'd be bored by straightforward Gilbert and Sullivan. If, however, such is his judgment, why do a new production of "The Mikado" at all? If this masterpiece of comic opera can no longer hold the stage as written, why not let it slip quietly into oblivion? Having chosen to set the work in the England of the 20's and 30's of the last century, Miller ignores so many consequent absurdities that he unwittingly invites viewers to question whether he's done more than just maim G&S. Signs saying "No Flirting," which might make sense in the repressive Victorian England which lies just beneath the surface of the original "Japan," seem pointless in a roaring 20's hotel. More seriously, "Japanese" concerns with beheadings and the presence of a Mikado have no pertinence at an English seaside resort. And just how the work has been made meaningful much less been improved by early 30's cinematic references and dance routines remains problematic at best. Miller, in sad allegiance to our current conformist tradition of arbitrary "innovation," emerges here as a director who could himself benefit from having a director with the foresight to nix such "bright" ideas in future.

The three stars here are for the singers from the English National Opera, all of whom manage through fine voices to transcend the dull and ugly irrationality which has replaced the fun and high spirits of the original
work.

While this production was interestingly staged and seriously fun to watch, (it takes Eric Idle to remind us that "Oh bother the flowers of spring" is a euphemism for "Oh buggar the flowers..."), I suspect I am just too much of a purist to be wholly comfortable with this "Mikado". When I visit Titipu Japan, I expect to see a chorus of samurai at the beginning, rather than a group of seedy-looking Englishmen Making creepy "slant-eye" gestures at the audience, and people who look more like they belong to P.G.Wodehouse's universe than Gilbert & Sullivan's. Did I like it? In itself, it was a typically fresh-faced Jonathan Miller opera production, of the same quality he bestowed on Mozart opera some years ago. But then, this is not Mozart, and Japan doesn't cut it looking like the Miami hotel in the Marx Brothers' classic, "Coconuts". Take me back to old Japan - please.

There are times I am convinced that The Mikado is the best Sullivan & Gilbert opera ever, but that is only so long as I'm not listening to Iolanthe. Be that as it may, The Mikado is probably the most frequently filmed of the Savoy Operas. (Yes, I put the composer first. Nobody says Hammerstein and Rodgers, or Hart and Rodgers, or Boito and Verdi, or What's-His-Face and Strauss. You don't even hear the names of librettists for Offenbach, Suppe, or Balfe. Gilbert was just the bigger name (and the bigger ego) at the time, so they put his name first. It's time that silly practice was put to rest.

Anyway, The Mikado is a compleat S&G operetta. It has some of Sullivan's catchiest numbers, combined with some of Gilbert's cleverest lyrics. It has an interesting book and sprightly dialogue. It's got a wonderful degree of craziness. And it leaves the door wide open for elaborate and whimsical costuming.

This particular production, filmed in a live performance in 1990, turns its imagination toward striking simplicity. Set in a British seaside resort toward the end of the Art Noveau period, it throws over the japonerie of the original entirely. The result is costuming and setting in an eye-caressing medley of whites, grey, and blacks, accented by occasional bits of red (and less frequent uses of yellow and green). It takes some getting used to, but it's really spiffy. Of course, when the chorus tells you they are gentlemen of Japan, you would be right to exclaim, "Oh, pooh. Bah!" (Did I just say that?)

It's most gratifying that this fine production is now on DVD. However, one caveat: the print seems to be photographed through a glass of imperfect clarity, so that the expected sharpness of the image is softened and ever so slightly fuzzy. The tendency to superimpose images is, alas, annoying. Why do people who are doing a really spiffy production want to muck it up with artsy-fartsy stuff of that sort?

But it's the performance that counts the most. We may skip the overture, since although one is performed, Sullivan never wrote one. (True, it may be so he wrote none for any of the Savoys. But the Mikado overture doesn't even date from Sullivan's lifetime and was compiled by observing the techniques used in the others.) As for the rest of the operetta, it's first-rate and supremely funny.

The Ko-Ko here is the estimable Eric Idle, who does it credit. There is a tradition of bringing a Big Name into the role. The was a U.S. TV production years ago in which Ko-Ko was played by Groucho Marx with mixed results. Idle's performance is delightfully quirky ... he does "Taken from a county jail" assisted by a tennis racquet. His "I've Got a Little List" is done as a speech to a microphone -- of course it has the usual updated lyrics, which are much funnier than the usual run of such things, and his delivery is positively hysterical. It goes on that way throughout.

In this operetta, it's important to have a good Katisha; it's just no fun if you're not being bellowed at in style. This Mikado has a fabulous Katisha in Felicity Palmer, in her way almost as Big a Name as Idle. She bellows with the best of them in a wonderful rich contralto ... wonderful, especially, for a soprano. And her costume...!!! (Not to mention her recital with Franz Liszt, apparently, accompanying.)

Nanki-Poo is played by Bonaventura Bottone. I have trouble getting around is somewhat un-Nanki-Pooish chubby shortness -- but is voice is undeniably a solid, rich addition to the vocal palette. There is a nice touch during "A Wand'ring Minstrel", where the chorus reacts with distaste to the mention of "his nancy on his knee" -- bear in mind the Mikado's decree about flirting. Be that as it may, Bottone is a fine singing actor and if his appearance doesn't put the best face on Nanki-Poo, his performance does.

Yum-Yum (Lesley Garett) and her friends are appropriately pretty and silly. She and Bottone do lovely duets. Pish-Tush (Mark Richardson) plays his persona as something a blageur and does it very well. Poo Bah (Richard Van Allan) is wonderful as a stuffed shirt out of water ... a role later done to death in American sitcoms (you know: haughty butlers forced to cater to bratty children -- that sort of thing). The Mikado (Richard Angas) is bloody marvelous, with an imperious voice at absolute variance with his ridiculous lyrics.

I don't recommend you get this as your only Mikado. Get a good traditional production as well, so ou can see what Gilbert intended (more or less) in terms of staging. That being said, I'll watch this one twice while viewing any traditional bit once. On the whole this is a terrific offering, a vocal and visual delight, with delicious over-acting. It's a DVD to treasure, with dervish-like maids, tap-dancing bellhops, and all. Watch for the bellhops with signs.

I have two teenage daugters, as well as two young sons, who adore this version. My 16 year old has compared the produciton with G & S liberato, and has delcared the changes (minor), as improvements. The delightful, subtle humor, play on words, as well as the choreography of motion add up to a masterpiece of comedic performance.

SOURCE: 1986 live performance at the London Coliseum.

CAST: The Mikado, Emperor of Japan - Richard Angas (bass); Ko-Ko, Lord High Executioner of the Town of Titipu - Eric Idle (baritone, sort of); Poo-Bah, all the other ministers of state rolled into one - Richard Van Allan (baritone); Pish-Tush, a gentleman of Titipu - Mark Richardson (baritone); Nanki-Poo, the son of the Mikado disguised as a wandering minstrel - Bonaventura Bottone (tenor); Yum-Yum, Ko-Ko's ward - Lesley Garrett (soprano); Peep-Bo, Yum-Yum's schoolmate - Susan Bullock (mezzo-soprano); Pitti-Sing, Yum-Yum's schoolmate - Ethna Robinson (soprano); Katisha - a lady of the Mikado's court who is engaged to Nanki-Poo - Felicity Palmer (mezzo-soprano).

CONDUCTOR: Peter Robinson with the Orchestra and Chorus of the English National Opera.

PRODUCTION STAFF: Producer and stage director - Jonathan Miller; television director - John Michael Phillips.

DVD EXTRAS: "A Source of Innocent Merriment: The Making of the Mikado"; downloadable libretto in PDF format; thumbnail cast biographies; menu and scene selection.

TEXT: The spoken dialogue is generally faithful to the version Gilbert wrote, despite a couple of pointless omissions and gratuitous additions. The usual silly updatings have been made to Ko-Ko's "list" and the Mikado's "punishments" song. As usual the changes add nothing to the show. The overture is truncated to a little over two minutes.

SETS: At the beginning of Act 1, a card appears on the screen to inform the audience that the show takes place at a seaside off the coast of Japan. It appears to be quite some distance from Japan, perhaps near the Isle of Wight, for the scene appears to be the main lobby of a large, mostly white-painted, very snooty, Edwardian hotel that is jammed full with English luminaries.

COSTUMES: The overall production design is consistently black and white with some dark gray. Even the makeup tends toward very pale. The production has been yanked out of medieval Japan and plunked down in the late 1920s or early 1930s, sometimes making absolute nonsense out of the spoken lines. Whether inappropriate or not, the costumes range from formal to sporting and are handsome and elegant.

TELEVISION IMAGERY: The television director, John Michael Phillips seems to be an incompetent or a fool or perhaps both. He clearly feels that he is required to "improve" on a mere stage piece by nervous cutting, irrelevant camera angles and superimposed images. Each of his directorial touches interrupts the flow of the show and is progressively more and more annoying. Throughout the DVD, there is a subtle hint of fogginess that reminds me of the Vaseline-on-the-lens close-ups of Doris Day in her old films with Rock Hudson.

SOUND: Dolby digital stereo without any particular bells and whistles.

COMMENTARY: This is an example, albeit mostly benign, of "Regietheater," so-called "director-theater." The director, Jonathan Miller, appears on the accompanying "making-of" piece, carefully explaining that author W. S. Gilbert got it wrong and that a hundred years of doing the show his way has been a fluke. At last the genius of Jonathan Miller has penetrated to the truth about "The Mikado:" it is NOT about the Japanese, but about the English. When I heard that, my reaction was, "Big whoop, Jonathan!" It is nice to discover that even such a close-minded creature as a famous and revered stage director can eventually work his way to what has been painfully bleeding obvious to audiences all over the world since the show opened on March 14, 1885.

In accordance with his great revelation, Miller has thrown overboard all the Japanese trappings in favor of ultra-posh, 1930-ish Englishness. Miller was so hyped up on this notion that he spent great effort in duplicating the accents found in early English sound films. (In the making-of feature, there is a scene right out of the old movie musical "42nd Street" during which Miller attempts to get his leading soprano to say "wuhlld" rather than "world." Just like Ruby Keeler, more than fifty years before, she repeats the line over and over without discernable change.) Miller is obviously quite indifferent to the fact that his re-setting of the show makes absolute hash out of the plain meaning of many of the lines, whatever the accent in which they are spoken.

Having now vented on the directorial concept, I must report that the performance is a good one in spite of Millers' brainstorm. The sets and costumes look good, the performers range from more-than-adequate to excellent. Eric Idle is the name star of the show and he is fine as Ko-Ko the upstart former cheap tailor who has been promoted to chief man of his town. (For hard core G&S fans, I must amplify that by adding that while very good, he is no better than such historic Ko-Kos as Henry Lytton, Martyn Green or even John Reed.) Felicity Palmer is a very good Katisha, although, I think, directed to make her voice too harsh from time to time, but she is made up and costumed in far too glamorous a fashion for a love-sick maiden reduced to boasting about the loveliness of her elbow and despairing of finding a new victim ... ahem, lover. Bonaventura Bottone is a remarkably and surprisingly fine G&S tenor, in some ways the real "find" of the show. Mark Richardson offers an unusually strong Pish-Tush, even if he is a bit over-parted with the basso-profundo depths required in Act 2. Richard Van Allan is OK as Poo-Bah, but I have the distinct impression that he would be much better with more experience in the role. Richard Angas in an astonishing costume, is visually impressive as The Mikado but not a great deal more. Garrett, Bullock and Robinson are fine as the three little maids, although hardly memorable.

The male choristers are made up to look like famous individuals of the 1920s. This is amusing at first, but it quickly becomes a nuisance. After all, if Lytton-Strachey and Noel Coward are there, why won't they step forward and say something witty?

This is a production with grievous faults for a knowledgeable G&S fan. Those faults, however, are not of such nature as to bother the great majority of viewers who simply want a good-looking, funny, well-sung version of a show that has plenty of good music and laughs.

Four stars, for not even Miller can stifle a perpetual source of "innocent merriment."