ON the evening of 16th December 1912, Bristol Hippodrome opened its doors for the first time with the spectacular production of The Sands O’ Dee, featuring a 100,000 gallon water tank, diving horses and a variety bill headed by Eugene Stratton singing his signature song, Lily of Laguna. The costs of mounting a modern production rule out a presentation of that scale, but every now and again something akin in style arrives on the scene – Les Misérables comes immediately to mind … and this joint Michael Harrison-Cameron Mackintosh production of Claude Michel Schonberg and Alain Boublil’s second big hit, the sung-through musical version of the Madama Butterfly story.

We may not have a realistic reproduction helicopter coming down on stage to take the last group of desperate citizens of Saigon away before the Communists arrive to take over the city, but thanks to terrific work by set and costume designer Andrew D Edwards, lighting designer Bruno Poet, Adam Fisher’s sound team and a 12-piece orchestra, there is no shortage of realism about those last moments as the pitiful refugees, among them Kim, the Madame Butterfly figure, fight to leave the city.

Abandoned, as she then believes, by her American Marine lover, Sergeant Chris Scott, a bundle of taut nerves and deep regrets in the hands of Jack Kane, the 17-year old, pregnant Kim, played with a wonderful emotion and determination by Julianne Pundan, is left to face a bleak future alone.

There is no doubting that the Kim created by Pundan would have the moral courage to raise and defend her young son Tam, but three years later, when we next see her, in Ho Chi Minh City (formally Saigon), there are two men who are equally determined to have a say in her future life. Mikko Juan’s Thuy, formerly betrothed to Kim, now a senior officer in the Communist army, is determined to reignite that partnership and, despite rejection, tries to force his will, with tragic results.

Rescue from the inevitable consequences of her rejection of Thuy comes from a most unlikely source – the Engineer, a born hustler and former owner of the sleazy Dreamland Club. He sees Kim and Tam as his ticket to America. How the Engineer views America is vividly brought to life in the flamboyantly staged The American Dream number.

Joined by an ensemble, who here, as they do throughout the production, make the most of Chrissie Cartwright and Carrie-Anne Ingrouille’s choreography, and with sound, lighting, costume and orchestra in full flight, Seann Miley More takes the brakes fully off and paints the Engineer in the most outrageously startling colours.

With less ammunition, Emily Langham, as Chris’s rather selfish American wife, John Thomas, another former Marine quietly understated by Owen Johnston, draw tightly together the threads of this story, which like the war in Vietnam, has to end in tragedy.

Miss Saigon does not have the subtlety and musical variation of Les Miserables, but it has a powerful, emotional story to tell and affords wonderful chances for visual effects, all of which are fully explored in this top quality production.

GRP

 

Photographs by Danny Kaan