‘HMS Pinafore’: Gilbert and Sullivan at the ENO
A century and a half on, Gilbert and Sullivan still work their magic, encouraging us to laugh at pomposity and mock the system that allows fools to ascend the heights of power. And in English National Opera’s revival of Cal McCrystal’s 2021 production, some of the jokes have been updated — though in that delightful rendition of “he remains an Englishman” the figure of Boris Johnson still appears waving flags as he drifts across stage hanging from a zipline. Judging by the reactions of the audience around me, this is still the huge success it was when the production was new.
The plot hinges on an early mix-up between two babies, one of humble birth, the other of noble origins, which only emerges late in the opera. One has become Captain Corcoran, the other able seaman Ralph Rackstraw, both being cared for in their infancy by Buttercup, who has withheld the secret. When she reveals it, true love can flourish. Corcoran’s now humble rank leaves him free to marry Buttercup (the Portsmouth bumboat woman), Josephine (Corcoran’s daughter) is no longer pursued by Sir Joseph (First Lord of the Admiralty) and is free to marry her beloved Ralph, now suddenly a Captain. Sir Joseph believes that love is a great leveller of rank, but his passion for Josephine evidently finds its limits, and he marries a cousin.
The outrageously garish dresses for Sir Joseph’s female relatives are a glorious addition that points to how (un)seriously we should take all this. But spoof or no spoof there is a serious side to Gilbert’s text. Whether by accident of birth or not, people get into important positions for which they are unsuited, and we need to see their bubbles burst. We can all think of public figures who have risen beyond their abilities and ought to have their bubbles burst, so the theme of this operetta is as valid to modern audiences as it was in 1878.
Wonderful singing and movement from the chorus is augmented by a few professional dancers, including a nice tap routine. Even John Savournin as Corcoran dons tap shoes to join in, and he it is who really holds everything together. Steeped in the Gilbert and Sullivan canon, he points out that Gilbert “was a master at putting the social world under a microscope, dreaming up slightly larger than life characters and inserting them into peculiar situations to see what tomfoolery might emerge”.
McCrystal’s production gave us excellent diction from most of the singers, so the surtitles were superfluous. The cast included an appealing Thomas Atkins as Ralph, and Henna Mun as a sweetly sung Josephine, along with Neal Davies as a suitably pompous Sir Joseph, and TV actress and comedian Mel Giedroyc as the cabin boy. I loved the introductory speeches to both acts while the curtain remained down, but felt that Trevor Eliot Bowes made Dick Deadeye too obtrusive, though that must have been the director’s decision. Musically this flourished under the baton of Matthew Kofi Waldren, and towards the end the audience clapped in time to the orchestra.
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