Tokyo Rose – Southwark Playhouse

Picture: Steve Gregson

Tokyo Rose continues at the Southwark Playhouse, London until 30 October 2021, before going on tour.

Star rating: four stars ★ ★ ★ ★ ✩

Buoyed by their success at the 2019 Edinburgh Festival Fringe, the female-led Burnt Lemon Theatre are here in London to present their reworked and expanded Tokyo Rose in the Southwark Playhouse. And wow, are they here! It’s an ambitious and risky undertaking, not just because of the complexities and nuances of the real-life story behind its near-mythical title character but because of the scale that the musical production demands: it’s a fierce, pulsating concept album crying out for big-stage grandeur and sumptuousness… which it just about gets from its cast of only six and their back-of-the-sofa budget.

The name Tokyo Rose is one of those that resonates through recent history, although I have to confess I knew little more than the fact that she was a Japanese radio announcer broadcasting propaganda to Allied troops in the Pacific. I was about a quarter right. But as names go, it’s perfect for a musical – it’s got an inherent sex appeal and mystery to it in just the same way that Stephen Ward doesn’t. You can instantly imagine the poster and PR materials.

This clearly didn’t escape the notice of Cara Baldwin and Hannah Benson, co-founders in 2018 of the production company Burnt Lemon, who created the show – with co-writer Maryhee Yoon – as a one-act piece for the 2019 Edinburgh Festival Fringe (where it was shortlisted for Musical Theatre Review’s Best Musical Award).

A couple of awards and a rewrite or two later, the show has opened for what Burnt Lemon is presumptuously calling its ‘mid-scale debut’. Is this in advance of some future grand entrance on the West End? Is their confidence misplaced? I’d suggest ‘no’, because at the core of Tokyo Rose is a potent, persuasive show that has all the ingredients for a hit, or at least a cult one.

Indeed, it currently has too many ingredients – a bento box overfilled with wonderfully creative ideas and engaging tunes that just needs trimming down and reshaping a little. Benson directs it at pace but it’s at times difficult to keep up. It’s not helped by the music being pre-recorded and so lacking the breathing space of safety bars; there are times when the cast races through the lyrics and dialogue like Modern Major Generals, all too conscious of the fact that they can’t miss a beat.

But it is creative, and the storytelling is very strong, so hats off to the dramaturgs. I was captivated by the story of the central character, Iva Toguri – the American-born Japanese woman who came to personify the many English-speaking female radio announcers hired by Hirohito to spread propaganda and demoralise the US troops stationed in the South Pacific. It was Toguri who, shortly before Pearl Harbour, visited Japan to help a sickly aunt and who became trapped there after the outbreak of war. It was also she who, once back in the USA, unfortunately accepted the alias of Tokyo Rose and therefore came under investigation by the US Attorney’s Office during their post-war blitz on traitors.

Toguri is brought dazzlingly to life by Maya Britto, who holds your attention throughout. An MA graduate from the Royal Academy of Music, she has a belter of a voice, cutting through the epic soundtrack, and her creation is a rounded, three-dimensional character that you genuinely root for.

Britto is joined by five others who take on a multitude of roles: Kanako Nakano, Lucy Park, Yuki Sutton, Cara Baldwin and Amy Parker. All six women are tireless in their efforts to bring the story to life, but the most captivating is undoubtedly Nakano as, primarily, the neurotic sick Aunt; a Miss Saigon alumnus (Prince Edward and national tour), she has immaculate comic timing and is a joy to watch. Sutton, in the role of, among many others, Toguri’s attorney Wayne Mortimer Collins, is also a talent to keep an eye on.

The tunes are provided by Yoon and Baldwin (lyrics) and William Patrick Harrison (music), and they work hard to tell the story through song. Harrison, with the help of director Benson as vocal arranger, has created a contemporary soundscape – Six, Hamilton and Here Lies Love all come to mind – and at times its spine-tingling stuff. On saying that, the eight-song cast recording that you can listen to now on Spotify, which is crisp and flawlessly produced, slightly over-promises on the experience you’ll get at Southwark, where the harmonies are less pristine and the timing is not quite as razor sharp. But still, I enjoyed every song – even those that arguably need to be trimmed or excised.

Almost every aspect of the show is musicalised, which can get a little excessive. A tender moment between two characters will be suddenly overwhelmed by the music, and there are too many times when the balance is thrown off, forcing the cast to bellow at each other to make themselves heard. This is fine in a studio-finessed recording – and possibly in the West End – but not so in a Fringe theatre. The other facet that needs work is the buttoning of the songs, which all too often fizzle out and leave the audience unsure of whether or not to applaud.

I did mention the shoestring budget but actually the show doesn’t suffer too much from its modest staging – although some WD-40 on the crate casters wouldn’t go amiss (ee-ee-ee), and perhaps some better ‘driving’ by the cast to prevent noisy collisions. I’d go so far as to say that there are times when Luke W. Robson’s production design, combined with the best of Holly Ellis’ lighting choices, creates a striking tableau, especially when focused on the entrance downstage.

So, there’s a little more work to be done to cut this diamond into something brilliant, but don’t let this put you off experiencing it in its current state. I thoroughly enjoyed my journey of discovery, learning something new about a fascinating episode from recent history. And I was impressed by the creators’ show-making talents just as much as I was by their audacity and confidence. It was also good to see efforts being made to correct an imbalance of Asian representation on stage.

I might have to wait a while for that ‘large-scale debut’ but when it comes, I’ll be there!

Craig Glenday