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Operation Mincemeat
Journeying from London’s West End where SplitLip’s rollicking musical Operation Mincemeat won two Olivier Awards in 2024, the original cast of five principals, who play multiple gender-swapping roles, successfully transferred to Broadway’s Golden Theatre. The wild, fast-paced, WWII spy spoof, based on a true story, sports dark, underlying anti-war sentiments. The musical farce, which runs through Feb. 15, 2026, will captivate audiences. It has already accumulated three Broadway extensions after beginning previews February 15, 2025. Why the excitement surrounding this uniquely particular, madcap musical about a risky, ridiculous, British WWII espionage caper?
Exactly that! Stretching musical conventions, the book, music and lyrics created by four members of SplitlLip, three of them performers, wend their way into audiences’ hearts once the imperative for the MI5 mission unfolds. Europe in the death grip of Hitler’s Germany cries out for an invasion by Allied forces, the most likely spot being via Sicily. However, about 100,000 German soldiers occupy the island. An Allied landing can only work by tricking the Germans into leaving Sicily and pursuing an invasion elsewhere, perhaps Sardinia.
Only the upper-class Etonians in British Intelligence set themselves as fit for such an endeavor (“Born to Lead,” “God That’s Brilliant”). Yet, as the musical unfolds, we note that the ladies who fill in the labor gap of men missing from the work force do contribute greatly (“All the Ladies”). Interestingly, the gender-swapping has no overtly political message. Indeed, thanks to the phenomenal actors, Ben Stones’ costume design elements and director Robert Hastie’s vision from earlier versions of the musical, the gender switches add layers of nuance and irony.
Mincemeat and Misdirection
The key to invading Sicily “is not invading Sicily,” says MI5 boss Johnny Bevan (Zoë Roberts). When the self-possessed, aristocratic, haughty Ewen Montague (Natasha Hodgson) asks Bevan, “We win this war with a magic trick?” Bevan’s classic reply, “How else do we make 100,000 German troops disappear?” lands with a humorous flourish. The joke prefaces Bevan’s riotous, rapping explanation of the necessity for a great deception to overcome Hitler. But what ruse will expeditiously move 100,000 German soldiers off Sicily before the July 1943 Allied landing there? The conundrum requires that the most “brilliant,” self-absorbed Eton-schooled MI5 “heroes” come up with an acceptable, hoodwinking gambit.
The silly, far-fetched but successful MI5 operation produced a cottage industry of documentation in the form of history books, films, and now a stage musical. “Mincemeat” refers to the use of the corpse given a fake identity upon which fake plans could be “delivered” into German hands. The plot unspools like an Ian Fleming novel. Interestingly, Fleming, who worked for British Special Services in 1939, proposed a number of schemes like the use of a corpse to thwart the Germans in various situations. The musical humorously twits Fleming’s intermittent, fiction-prone presence and keeps the jocular momentum going with a few references to the author and James Bond.
The Intelligence Officers of Operation Mincemeat
The intelligence officers who come up with the plan, Hodgson’s Montague and Charles Cholmondeley (David Cumming), do see it through from start to finish (“The Pitch,” “Born to Lead”). With the help of “the ladies,” Hester Leggett (Jak Malone) and Jean Leslie (Claire-Marie Hall), they create a false identity: Acting Major William Martin. This fabricated Royal Marine officer comes with a convincing backstory and artifacts of his life to make him appear real. They sing about their “hero” who dies in a plane crash in “Making a Man.” Still, they have yet to find a corpse to pin this identity on.
When Bevan hears the details of the faux identity and agrees to the cockamamie deception, he suggests that a personal love letter from Bill’s fiancée would make their artifice complete. Because of inexperience with love (“Love is a Bird”), the letter Jean Leslie tries to write sounds insincere. However, out of her own experience, Hester creates a touching, poignant letter expressed in the song “Dear Bill.” Malone, who sings the extraordinarily poetic, heartfelt prose with a profound sensitivity and depth, elevates the musical and cuts through the farcical craziness. Malone does it so well, he brought down the house with three-minute applause and cheering the evening I saw the musical. Indeed, Malone’s superb portrayal of Hester and others won him an Olivier Award for Best Supporting Actor.
A Turning Point
“Dear Bill” encapsulates the lives of the inconsequential “little people” as unsung heroes, who played instrumental parts in the war effort. That’s a key theme. Most times, the “invisible” are the ones who fight the wars, face the traumatic risks and sustain the losses without recognition or praise. Meanwhile, the “heroes” like the Etonians in intelligence services or the privileged with money and excuses live comfortably and have dashing fun despite the war, avoiding bloodshed. They celebrate themselves becoming famous while the little people just humbly do the job without fanfare.
Montague, at times unlikable and annoying, manifests this cavalier nature, though his drinking indicates the need to escape. However, Hester, who lost her love in WWI, can understand the heartache of saying goodbye to a loved one. “Dear Bill” ratchets up the gravity of fighting Hitler’s evil, all war’s ugliness, and the great loss and sacrifice by those on the battlefield and those who wait for those who will never return. On this quietly sung song hinges the profound themes of this musical, subtly reminding us of the price paid underneath the apparent shimmer of “heroes.”
Legal or Illegal, for the Good of the Nation
Obstacles to obtaining a “legal” corpse abound. For one, the permission of family members must be gotten. To avoid such stickiness and delay Montague wishes to obtain an anonymous corpse no one claims. Finally, a shady coroner prone to impropriety and skirting the law delivers a corpse, and they outfit “Bill” in battle dress. They tie a briefcase to his wrist with fake invasion plans about Sardinia, the “Dear Bill” letter and other convincing material to dupe Hitler. Then, they secure “Bill” in an airtight metal container and place him on a submarine.
The no-nonsense submarine captain (Malone) who faces danger daily and has no time for upper-class twits finds the men silly and the container weird. Nevertheless, when the going gets rough and his men question the Captain as they confront the danger of German U-boats, he insists they follow orders. Once again SplitLip emphasizes the contrast between those in for the “fun show” and those who face the realities of war in the haunting “Sail on, Boys.”
‘Just for Tonight’: MI5 and the Brave Submariners
In the crucial delivery of the container to Spain’s shores, the submariners risk their lives, depth-charged by German warships, effected by Mark Henderson’s lighting design and Mike Walker’s sound design. Simultaneously, Montague drags Cholmondeley on a festive, drunken, high-octane pub crawl where Montague meets his brother who is of questionable intentions. When Montague in front of Cholmondeley passes brother Ivor (Malone) a file and we hear Ivor sing about selling secrets, our hackles rise. After all, the Captain and submariners are trying to accomplish the hard part of a ridiculous plan that most probably won’t work and may get them killed. Yet Montague, who encourages Charles to drink and party singing, “Live it up Tonight,” proclaims “not to worry.” He appears to play both sides against the middle as a traitor.
The cast performs the feat of rapidly changing settings (the pub vs. the sub) with hats and paraphernalia, right before our eyes. As we follow the action the five actors playing multiple parts sing their separate songs in counterpoint, emphasizing the division of classes and missions. The stage seems filled with a large cast, but only five actors create the shifting settings marvelously. They conclude in unison with the refrain, “Tomorrow we could all be gone, if a single thing goes wrong, for all we know we don’t have long, so fill em up, let’s live it up tonight.” But before the lights dim signaling the end of Act I, Bevan states, “Gentleman, we have a problem.”
Act II Brings It All Together
If Act I initially takes time to establish the people and events, Act II brings the themes, events, double-agent spy plot and triumphs together swiftly and more humorously. At the top of the act is a rousing, excoriatingly funny number that rivals The Producers‘ “Springtime for Hitler.” The update for the white nationalist crowd ridicules brutal “machismo” with dancing Nazis (“Das Übermensch”) in the style of boy-bands. The capstone joke follows right after, delivered by Bevan to set the record straight. From then on, Bevan discusses the problem and gives a review to the generals in a rhythmic, rapping update. Meanwhile, Montague and Cholmondeley must wait to discover whether Hitler took the bait or whether the allied soldiers on Sicily became bait for the Germans who stayed and waited to kill them as they arrived.
Why Operation Mincemeat Succeeds
Though we know the allies won the war and the invasion of Sicily proceeded with few casualties on either side as a result of “Operation Mincemeat,” the musical keeps us enthralled because of the quickly unraveling complications in the latter half of the show. Bevan even calls for a segment of the plan to be cancelled (“I Call Abort”), though Montague keeps the faith and encourages them all. When Cholmondeley and the others call Montague to account, he reveals his true purpose and it is the last of the threads tying back to the beginning of how Montague perceives himself as a leader and a hero. How delicious that Natasha Hodgson portrays this to the hilt. SplitLip’s book, lyrics and structure are truly marvelous.
All of it SplitLip affirms as true, even the final revelations of what happens to the various individuals who brought the scheme to its glorious triumph. This the show accomplishes after the celebratory song “We Did It,” in the musical’s “A Glitzy Finale.” This last riotous number ties up the loose details. It even clarifies the identity of the anonymous “Bill” who made his mark in death and saved countless lives.
A Brilliant Musical that Twits Itself and the Audience
Operation Mincemeat‘s brilliance lies in its send-up of the class system and the Etonians’ hyperbolic presumptions about themselves. Also, its “boy-band” Nazis send up the current white-supremacist conservative machismo that’s found in organizations like the Proud Boys.
Throughout SplitLip reveals how the “heroes” who wrote their own memoirs “are not all that!” In fact, without the collaboration of “the little people” the success and triumph might very well have reversed in a galactic, embarrassing failure. The war may have gone the other way without everyone’s efforts, especially the sacrifices of “the invisible.” Not only are these themes current, the idea of white nationalism rearing its ugly head in conservative politics peeks out in humorous dialogue throughout the production.
One More Theme
We also realize that Operation Mincemeat, in all its farcical fun and ridicule of MI5 and the zany Montague and wacky Cholmondeley, twits those who enjoy watching the thrill of war as “entertainment.” Perhaps they deserve ridicule, as well as those who shrink back in fear of service. Indeed, as the musical underscores, all who serve, even though they may be invisible, gain purpose and value through their immense and sacrificial usefulness.
The terrific SplitLip members include David Cumming, Natasha Hodgson, Zoë Roberts, and Felix Hagan (a songwriter and composer of theatre-infused pop music). Kudos goes to Ben Stones’ set design (“The Glitzy Finale” is great) and costume designs integral to the scene and character changes throughout. Kudos to Mark Henderson for his impactful lighting design throughout and especially during “Just for Tonight” and “Das Übermensch.” Praise also goes to Jenny Arnold’s choreography, Steve Sidwell’s orchestrations, Joe Bunker (music director and supervisor), and Kristy Norter (music coordinator).
Operation Mincemeat runs two hours and 35 minutes with one intermission at Broadway’s Golden Theatre. It’s an ingenious production. Don’t miss it.
