Mimma – Cadogan Hall

Mimma was performed at the Cadogan Hall, London

Star rating: two stars ★ ★ ✩ ✩ ✩

Reading the programme notes for Mimma, receiving its UK premiere in a gala concert in aid of the Prince’s Trust, it is clear that first time musical writers Giles Watson and Ron Siemiginowksi wanted to shine a light on some forgotten corners of Europe in the dark days of the Second World War. Whether they achieved their goal is another matter.

The titular Mimma (Celinde Schoenmaker) is the scion of a 1930s Turin family who, with the use of a hidden printing press, are spreading anti-Mussolini materials throughout their town. After one too many close calls with the local blackshirts, Mimma is shipped off to what is believed to be the safety of London to work in the Soho nightclub run by her uncle Lorenzo (John Owen-Jones).

An interesting, but under-explored, dynamic is hinted at between Mimma and Lorenzo as the latter is unable to divorce his love for his home country from the Fascist regime that has it in its clutches. Similarly underpowered is the relationship between Mimma and Louise Dearman’s nightclub singer Sarah, who Lorenzo has treated as a proxy niece. There is scant evidence of the tightness of their bond which means a row between the pair at the Act I climax feels more like a petulant teenage spat.

Still, Dearman gets the best songs, as the nightclub milieu allows for several swing numbers befitting the era, perfectly suited to her vocal style. Watson’s rather obvious approach to lyrics betrays his lack of experience, perhaps, but Siemiginowksi’s music, as orchestrated by Richard Balcombe and performed by the BBC Concert Orchestra, sound so luscious that it is easy to overlook the similarly predictable melodic lines.

In addition to Mimma’s story, Watson and Siemiginowski frequently return to Turin to check in on Mimma’s brother Aldo (Ashley Riches) and mother Ada (Elena Xanthoudakis) and their fight against fascism. The Italians’ performances are all performed in an operatic style (in contrast to the British-set musical theatre number) and here the Italian libretto and lack of surtitles does, at least, hide the sort of clumsiness of Watson’s English lyrics.

These sections do provide some of the most powerful moments, particularly in the tail end of Act II as Siemiginowski composes a beautiful Stabat Mater solo for Xanthoudakis. It certainly makes up for the likes of Owen-Jones and Schoenmaker rarely getting the chance to perform to the best of their ability.

That number is as triumphant as it is out of place, for while the contrast between musical styles is well used, the story that forces the distinction between British and Italian musical styles is muddled, heavy and laboured. David Suchet does his best to narrate around the book’s shortcomings, but the cachet he brings can do little to salvage a plot that feels like little work has been done to develop a strong narrative.

As Britain interns Italians (whether Mussolini sympathisers or not) alongside Nazis and Jews in the same camps converted from Northern cotton mills, it feels like Watson has a checklist of items he wants to cover, from the indignity of those camps to the sinking of the Arandora Star, a ship in which the previously interned were being expatriated to Canada and which was sunk by a German U-boat.

Act I opens with a brief scene on one of the ship’s lifeboats, but the incident only resurfaces in Act III in flashback, as the Mimma of the 1950s reunites with Sarah and rushes through her story of the last ten years.

This muddled narrative weakens some of the points Watson seems eager to make. Key points which would have made for thrilling pieces of stagecraft are thrown away – from Mimma having to run from Mussolini’s blackshirts through the streets of Turin, to her escaping her own internment camp and rescuing Lorenzo from his, all while dressed as a man, and their plight after being rescued from the lifeboat.

One feels that in more experienced hands, or with the numerous workshops which professional musical writers hone their works, a strong story could emerge. As it is, the lavish splendour afforded Mimma – financed in part by the British Council’s Australia/UK season, Watson and Siemiginowksi both being based in Western Australia – feels premature.

Nobody could have anticipated just how contemporary some of the references to Europe on the brink of war would feel this week. But a better crafted, more intelligent work would have resonated so deeply. Instead, Mimma exits with a whimper.

Scott Matthewman