Operation Mincemeat – Lyceum Theatre, Sheffield

Book, Music and Lyrics: David Cumming, Felix Hagan, Natasha Hodgson and Zoë Roberts

Director: Robert Hastie

It’s April 1943. The Allied armies are planning an invasion of Sicily. The only problem is that Sicily is crawling with Nazis. They need to be baited into withdrawing. The solution? Operation Mincemeat – the Allies will float a corpse into Spanish waters, holding a receipt for an engagement ring, some love letters, and theatre ticket stubs. Oh, and top-secret papers telling of Britain’s plan to invade Sardinia. ‘Major Bill Martin’ will have his effects claimed by the Germans, they’d leave Sicily, and the war would be won and over by Christmas!

Not only is that the plot to Operation Mincemeat, but it was also a successful secret MI5 operation of the same name carried out in World War 2. As they say in the show “You couldn’t write it”.

While it could be a grim setting for a musical, Operation Mincemeat is genuinely a laugh a minute. The script has the feel of classic comedy staples such as Blackadder Goes Forth, Allo Allo and of course Monty Python’s Flying Circus. The actors are all channelling their inner Armstrong and Miller, clipped RP accents and over annunciation all round. This annunciation is sadly missing from a few of the group numbers though, making the already fast paced lyrics a little blurred in places, although the solos easily make up for this. The spectacle level is high, with fast paced prop work and costume changes, and the actors’ physical changes between multicast roles is a masterclass in acting on its own. Especially in songs such as Making a Man or Just for Tonight where the changes come thick and fast. The costumes are often basic, relying on added jackets or accessories to signal a switch, but the way each actor holds themselves differently for different characters makes it so easy to follow who is who and when (which could be especially difficult due to the gender-blind nature of the casting). And just as the audience have settled themselves into a rip-roaring night of hilarity, the show offers a stomach punch like Dear Bill or Sail On, Boys to remind you that this is a war, and there is a senseless loss of life happening. The seriousness with which these moments are taken transform tears of laughter to tears of sorrow, and that is what makes this such a well revered musical.

Despite the large number of characters, there are only five actors. Seán Carey primarily plays Operation Mincemeat devisor Charles Cholmondeley, while chameleoning so effortlessly into other roles that your reviewer genuinely thought there was a sixth actor at one point. Holly Sumpton primarily plays co-devisor Ewan Montague, showcasing a sleazy charm and a vocal style similar to a young Eddie Izzard. Christian Andrews will ruin you with their sympathetic portrayal of senior secretary Hester Leggatt, played with heavy vibes of Mark Gatiss. Jamie-Rose Monk’s ability to patter sing through the roles of Johnny Bevan and Francis Haselden surely makes them a shoe in for Hamilton at some future point. And last but not least Charlotte Hanna-Williams shows a fresh-faced glee and determination as clerk Jean Leslie, in what impressively appears to be their first post training professional acting gig.

While the actors are certainly the face of the musical’s success, major kudos must also be given to choreographer Jenny Arnold. The stylistic blend of 1940s dance hall, modern jazz and even the odd bit of American pageantry is stunningly effective, and the scene with hats and phones being swapped amongst British operatives and Spanish coroners is certainly a highlight, as is the boyband-come-Kraftwerk-come-K-pop styling of Das Übermensch. Ben Stones’ set also deserves praise, with a surprising number of doors and hatches and a fluidity that aids the arc of the show. When combined with Mark Henderson’s lighting design it really comes alive.

Operation Mincemeat is one of those musicals that don’t come around very often. It’s incredibly entertaining, side splittingly funny, and authentically heartfelt in its moments of poignancy. It’s acknowledgment not only of the famous MI5 names, but also of the little people in equal – if not more important – measure is lovely. Glyndwr Michael, whose corpse was buried as Major Bill Martin, as his true name was not found until 1996, would be very proud of how SplitLip, the company who created the show, have chosen to tell his story.

Runs until 25th April 2026