The Pirates of Penzance – Wilton’s Music Hall

The Pirates of Penzance continues at Wilton’s Music Hall, London until 16 March 2019.

Star rating: five stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

I’m not given to gushing but sometimes a show really does deserve paeons of praise.

This revival of Sasha Regan’s 2010 all male Pirates of Penzance is fabulous. By turns wry, silly, poignant and hilarious it camps up WS Gilbert’s 1879 words with such panache that it’s all as deliciously fresh as if written yesterday.

The real star of this spectacular production is the extraordinarily energetic muscular ensemble. Regan (and Lizzi Gee who choreographs) has them bounding, twitching, shifting, jumping, somersaulting as one.

During “Oh better far to live and die… I am a pirate king” they build a quasi rowing boat with brushes for oars and some of the on-stage grouping is visually delightful whether they’re being pirates, policemen or Major General Stanley’s daughters “climbing over rocky mountains” – very graphically in this case.

Then there’s the singing, accompanied by MD Richard Baker on piano: every note of the harmony is crystal clear and the timing impeccable. And if the upper falsetto female notes sung by some of the soloists are occasionally slightly out of tune, well it’s a very minor observation.

Not that there is any problem for the immensely talented Alan Richardson as Ruth, a contralto role. He hits every note apparently effortlessly and presents a frustrated older woman (usually a Gilbertian stereotype) who actually invites our sympathy as well as being very funny indeed. And to hear him belting out his line over the tutte finale is quite something.

Tom Senior is a warm and convincing Frederick, singing his tenor role with flair. Tom Bales is an attractive Mabel and David McKechnie delivers the famous Major General patter song with crystalline diction and a lot of fine stage business with a broom.

James Thackeray is a suitably daft pirate king – all bluster but soft as butter – and has a good bass voice.

But the very best moment of the evening comes when Sullivan suddenly indulges in that Mendelssohnian moment and the whole cast stops dead and sings the four line, absurdly worded unaccompanied anthem ‘Hail Poetry’. I have never heard it sung so well.

And all this joy sits perfectly in the faded, shadowy mystery of Wilton’s Music Hall whose evocative gallery and auditorium this show makes imaginative use of.

If you are feeling down – as my Plus One and I both were for different reasons – this is the show for you. You’ll dance and sing, beaming all the way home. For that matter, go for mood reinforcement even if you’re already feeling cheerful. You won’t regret it.  

Susan Elkin