The Book of Mormon

There have been some great shows on at the Theatre Royal since it reopened last September, but The Book of Mormon is surely the biggest, boldest and most anticipated production to appear in Norwich so far. Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s huge Broadway hit has been entertaining audiences since 2011, its quirky blend of satire and old school musical providing wry commentary and toe tapping sing-alongs in equal measure.

From the outset, this was a no holds barred festival of camp, kicking off with one of the strongest, and best known, numbers from the show, with our trainee missionaries test driving their patter, before renegade Elder Cunningham derails proceedings with an off script offer to change religion. “Hello” sets out the Parker/Stone central thesis, that the Church of Latter Day Saints is frankly a bit bonkers, but also seductively attractive for many. Cunningham’s intervention may be funny, but it’s also disarmingly honest, while the set text he demurs from has the patina of snake-oil sales. It’s also our first introduction to the character that will be central to the musical, played with charm, enthusiasm and straightforward talent by Corner Peirson. In a clever sleight of hand Cunningham is initially presented as Elder Price’s sidekick. Square-jawed Robert Colvin is teed up as the natural lead in the musical, with bumptious Peirson tagging along, one pace behind. In fact, Price proves to be an air head, singing about “You and me, but mostly me”, confident he’s going to change the world, solely though with the strength of his vacuous personality.

It’s a sharp and funny jumping off point for the narrative, but already we see Parker and Stone veering away from pointed criticism of the church itself, and towards more general observations about human frailty. Along the way, the Mormon’s odious views on race and homosexuality are ticked off, but they are barely addressed – those attending the musical for a merciless demolition of the faith were destined to be disappointed. Comparisons with the Jerry Springer Opera quickly fell away, as the show focused of the humanity and vulnerability of the young missionaries, who are presented as damaged souls looking for simple answers in “Turn it Off”. This clever and melancholy song was Patrick George’s first opportunity to steal the show (but not the last) as Elder McKinley, tap dancing away from his forbidden fancies.

Something I hadn’t anticipated was that the greater part of the show takes places in Uganda, where the boys try to convert the masses. Here we were treated to yet more talent, from Ewen Cummings, as the village elder Mafala Hatimbi, and Aviva Tulley as Cunningham’s sweetly adolescent crush Nabulungi. If my praise appears a tad undiscriminating, I can only say that I can’t recall a show with a stronger cast. Everyone involved sang with a clarity and precision essential to the delivery of such a witty, literate book. But they also managed to invest their characters with individual charm and personality. It’s a combination that can be hard to pull off in a musical, yet from the lead performers to one-liner Michael Lewis (with maggots in his scrotum) this ensemble cast was faultless.
It was an ensemble that provided some of the most memorable numbers. The profane “Hasa Diga Eebowai” was a lovely introduction to the whole cast, while “Spooky Mormon Hell Dream” was an astonishing set piece that brought to mind the grandest Hollywood musicals. Any show that has Jeffrey Dahmer dancing with Genghis Khan, while surrounded by pitch fork wielding devils, gets my vote. After such a spectacle, it begged the question, how to follow that? With assured stagecraft, what followed was a stripped down two hander, and one of the catchiest songs of the night. In an evening characterised by pleasant but disposal tunes bolstered by strong lyrics, “I Believe” was a soaring show stopper and one of the few songs that’s still rattling around in my head.

The show closed on another set piece from the cast that had the audience reeling with laughter, the details of which it would be wrong to reveal. Suffice to say, however, that at its core was an acceptance that simple Ugandan villagers are gullible enough to take absurdly tall tales at face value. Notwithstanding token references to metaphor, it brought bubbling to the surface my only concern and I’m still wrestling with whether I’m being far too earnest about it. I don’t for a moment think it was the intention of the production team, but a theatre full of Brits wetting themselves at the foolishness of Africans is not a good look.

Setting that misgiving aside, this was a potty mouthed but heart-warming tale of silly people doing their best, making a mess of it, but fundamentally meaning well. I’m guessing the writing team went in with the intention of skewering the church with rapier wit, but came out with a sneaking regard for the young men on the front line. Outside the theatre, there was a lone leaflet distributor next to a placard reading “You’ve seen the musical, now read the book” which, to be fair, is a pretty good joke. Going in, I might have taken exception to his presence. Coming out, I was inclined to praise him for having the balls to stand there.