The Mikado

I've seen this 1939 Technicolor version of the Mikado now maybe 10 times over 3 decades and it hasn't palled on me yet, it's a wonderful production of a wonderful operetta. I'm not a huge Gilbert & Sullivan expert, but I consider this to be their best work overall - I'd give the music and lyrics 9.9 out of 10 alone - and I do recognise this was edited to be squeezed into 90 minutes. This means a few great scenes and songs are not here, but as it's still great all the way through anyway I don't mind too much.

Although he did a good job, was good looking and had a fine singing voice Kenny Baker is the only thing about this production that jars a little, his kind of material was best displayed in films like At The Circus. But I'm not a Kenny Baker expert either! Was it simply to help sell it in America, or did he want the role?

At this distance we should be grateful for what we've got - I wish this entire team (cast and crew) had also made some of the other greats such as Pinafore and Penzance for us to admire and then quibble over the chosen edit! To anyone who wants to give G&S a try, try this, revel in Gilbert's gloriously witty and extensive use of the English language, be roused by some of Sullivan's most beautiful and catchy tunes. If you still don't appreciate it then I don't think any of their other work will do it for you either.

This version of 'The Mikado' was released in 1939 and was an early Technicolor production. This, and the fact that most of the cast are D'Oyly Carte veterans and experts in the material, means it is extremely watchable today. Even the addition of American Kenny Baker as Nanki-Poo (who acquits himself very well in such exalted company) can't spoil the feeling of watching a superior piece of operetta.

Of course there are a number of songs missing from this score, which is a shame. Chief amongst these is Ko-Ko's 'Little List', which I think was cut because of contemporary references which could seem offensive today. If that's true, it is a pity to lose such a show-stopper. I'd also liked to have seen more of Pooh-Bah, who has two songs deleted.

If you like Gilbert and Sullivan, or operettas generally, or big stage production musicals, sung well and acted with style, 'The Mikado' is for you.

Admittedly, there are some magnificent performences here. Ko-Ko is truly delightful, and probably quite canonical. However, the cuts and interpolations made to turn the play into a movie are absolutely vile. Several totally uncessary scenes are added, songs are given to the wrong characters, and several of the best are cut. What's The Mikado without "I've Got A Little List" or Katisha's magnificent "Oh, Living I" aria? I'd also be more comfortable with classic Japanese costumes (which, BTW, Gilbert insisted on) rather than these exaggerated, silly versions of them. Sigh. The D'Oyley Carte association with this film led me to expect an absolutely authentic production, and I was terribly disappointed.

This is a remarkable film in many ways. The fact that it was shot in the UK in the new (and very vivid) technicolor, was a first for a start, and the preservation of the performances of a number of D'Oyly Carte principals makes this an important historical document. Sydney Granville (Pooh-Bah) had worked with Gilbet himself. Sadly, this seems to be a reissue of the version that was on general release in the cinema. The original cut of the film included a number of sections not present in this release - Ko-Ko's "Little List" song for instance was filmed and certainly was present in the original master copy (a copy of which was in the possession of a late member of the old D'Oyly Carte administrative staff). Hopefully, someday, a copy of the extended version will surface once again.

At the conclusion of the wonderful prologue (A Wand'ring Minstrel I), my wife and I broke into applause right there in the den. Can't remember our doing that before. One reason it's so good is that the director found a way to keep it in its stage home without being stagey. The key to this is editing -- lots of fast cuts among faces and angles. Given these, the camera can rejoice in the operetta's stage-centeredness: the chorus can file onstage in glorious pageant and wondrous costume; the singers can face the audience and extend their arms in that wonderful G&S take on the hamminess that underlies the proper Englishman. That's another great thing about this production. It's clearly about how *Englishmen* would look and act if someone transported them to a magical imaginary Japan whose dimensions are constrained only by only the few wisps of knowledge in the *English* mind. The singing is tops, the physical comedy is wonderful, and there's more good feeling in it than in the next 20 Hollywood feel-good movies you'll see.