The outrageously pan-offensive, clever, problematic and hilarious satire Book of Mormon’s UK tour has landed in Plymouth where, interestingly, Life of Brian was banned for many years, and is nigh on a sell-out.
South Park’s Trey Parker and Matt Stone have teamed up with Avenue Q’s Robert Lopez to expand their 2003 episode "All About Mormons" and added a superb soundtrack to win myriad Tonys, Grammys and Olivier Awards, including Best Musical, and set the record for the highest single day of sales in West End history when the London production opened in February 2013.
The story is that of self-righteous 19-year-old missionaries, fresh from three months' training, leaving their Salt Lake City cocoon all zealed-up to change the world by bringing the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saint-ness to the uninitiated. The superb opening number (first of a tremendous list of songs) "Hello!" says it all with radiant, white-shirted youngsters practising their doorbell ringing and opening byte for recruiting the ‘Mormons God so loves’ with a free book written by the blond-haired, blue-eyed, All-American Jesus (found buried under a tree on a hill in the backyard of Joshua Smith but with the original golden plates for his eyes only).
Clean-cut, top scholar narcissistic Elder Price (fine-voiced and believable Adam Bailey) has his entitled sights set on converting gleaming Orlando—together with his ideal partner but "mostly me"—but instead, partnered with the chaotic, insecure, compulsive liar Elder Cunningham (beautifully played by Sam Glen), is sent to Uganda as a white saviour.
Reality bears little resemblance to the Lion King-esque airport send-off from Mrs Brown (Olympia Curry)—attired in tiger tea towel with straw accessories (such nuances stack up)—as the filthy hovels, disease-ridden villagers and cowboy-booted despotic General on a FGM mission soon evidence. The doctor has a scrotum full of maggots, baby rape is considered a cure for AIDS and all have only one (profane) thought towards a god: "Hasa Diga Eebowai" accompanied by middle-fingers gestured skywards.
That is (most of) the crude shock factor stuff which is on repeat, while incipient racial stereotyping is somewhat uncomfortable, but I am certain there are complex arguments to be had, particularly when the villagers seem far more savvy than the boys regarding their belief of the wild religious stories—made even more wild by Elder Cunningham’s addition of Ewoks, Trekkies, hobbits and spaceships.
Nyah Nish is a sweet love-interest Nabulungi whose naïve dreams of hopping aboard the next bus to Paradise—an open-minded Salt Lake City stuffed full of flying unicorns, waterfalls and vitamin injections "where human life has worth"—is perhaps hardly more daft than a glittering heaven full of white-skinned angels and fluffy clouds.
While the Ugandans live in fear, filth and abject poverty, the magic underwear-clad and erstwhile Elders have their own, First World, problems: domestic abuse, family deaths, the ‘cureable curse’ of gayness and temptation but must "Turn It Off" with jazz hands, tap shoes and harmonies else be force-fed a recognisable brand of coffee in the Spooky Mormon Hell Dream where dancing demons include Hitler, Genghis Khan, Darth Vader, Jeffrey Dahmer and OJ Simpson's lawyer.
Lopez—who co-wrote the songs for Disney’s Frozen and Coco—Parker and Stone’s music and lyrics embrace disco, Tin Pan Alley, melodramatic Disney-like ballads, African polyrhythms and comic novelty songs, while Casey Nicholaw’s choreography is both precise and joyous. The full cast is absolutely on-point with vocals, beautiful harmonies, high stepping and hoofing.
Scott Pask’s set is evocative—whether fairytale Orlando or mud-hutted Africa—and enhanced by excellent lighting design by Brian MacDevitt, while Maggie Vu keeps tight control of the exuberant score in the pit.
Undoubtedly Marmite: there is so much to cringe at, so much to laugh at but, just as in South Park, there is no malice, everyone and everything is fair game and no one escapes the writers’ brutal satirical glare.