Heathers M! SAMPLE Article 3

Broadway has come to Upper Street, bringing a company of sixteen, a live band, ambitious dance routines and enough American political scandal to fill several filing cabinets. Here Comes J. Edgar! is receiving its world premiere in one of London’s most intimate musical theatre spaces, yet almost nothing about Josh Seymour’s production thinks small.

Written by Harry Shearer and Tom Leopold, with music by the late Peter Matz, the show has taken more than thirty years to reach the stage after first appearing as a radio piece in 1994. Shearer, known for The Simpsons and This Is Spinal Tap, and Leopold, whose credits include Seinfeld and Cheers, fill the book and lyrics with rapid jokes, physical comedy and cheerfully tasteless asides. Matz’s score gives it the sound of an old school American musical, somewhere between The Producers, Schmigadoon! and the gloriously silly screen comedy of Airplane!. It feels like a show conceived in another era, but it embraces that identity.

I arrived knowing J. Edgar Hoover’s name without properly understanding the man behind it. The musical opens beside his deathbed in 1972, where his younger self appears to escort him through a theatrical version of his life. We follow an ambitious boy as he rises through federal law enforcement, gathers compromising information and accumulates extraordinary power over gangsters, journalists and presidents. Running alongside this is his relationship with deputy Clyde Tolson, reimagined as an unexpectedly sweet romance between two deeply compromised men.

Bryan Batt makes his London stage debut in the title role and gives a five star performance. Best known to many audiences as Salvatore Romano in Mad Men, he arrives with the confidence of a seasoned Broadway performer. Batt appears to know precisely where every laugh lives, including several the writing has not quite found for itself. His singing is rich and assured, his physical comedy is exact, and even Hoover’s distinctive walk becomes a recurring source of humour.

Whether Hoover is commanding his agents, shaving his legs, appearing in a sequinned dress or quietly manipulating another president, Batt commits completely. He makes a deeply flawed man magnetic without asking us to mistake charm for innocence. During the less buoyant passages of Act Two, he keeps lifting the material through reactions, timing and sheer stagecraft. There seems to be very little he cannot do, and his performance alone makes the production worth seeing.

Hugo Bolton is wonderfully dry and gloriously catty as Clyde, introduced as Hoover’s “lifetime assistant” before becoming the emotional centre of the story. Bolton finds genuine affection beneath the campness, especially when Clyde’s hopes for a shared life collide with Hoover’s hunger for power. Their relationship gives the musical a warmth that its political satire does not always reach.

Laura Medforth is another major highlight as Helen, Hoover’s devoted secretary. Her control, diction and comic precision are excellent, before an Act Two number allows everything the character has suppressed to burst out. It is one of the evening’s strongest vocal moments. Marc Elliott brings a fine voice and steady authority to broadcaster Walter Winchell, presiding over events from an elevated radio booth beside the musicians. It helps the show travel through decades of history without becoming a lecture.

Joanna Kirkland brings strong vocals and full matriarchal confidence to Hoover’s mother, while Judith Owen makes a brief but memorable appearance as the Lady in Red. Reuben Khan has immediate presence as John F. Kennedy, Jess Pratley gives the young Hoover real spirit, and Isobel Grace Bass steps confidently into the roles of Nurse and Starlet at this performance. The wider company turn presidents, gangsters and agents into sharply defined comic characters, often with only a few lines in which to make an impression

Bill Deamer’s choreography is the production’s greatest technical achievement. He uses the full room, the aisles and every available entrance, making the King’s Head feel considerably larger than it is. The title number, Here Comes J. Edgar!, bursts into full scale musical theatre showmanship, with tightly drilled agents, bold formations and movement that fills the space without overwhelming it. The company execute everything with precision and attack. Choreographically, this already feels ready for a larger stage.

Sophia Pardon achieves a great deal with a relatively simple set. A central door, Hoover’s desk, a hospital bed and carefully selected props move us smoothly between offices, bedrooms, bathrooms and nightclubs. Small practical touches, including running water, give the production a sense of investment rarely seen at this scale. Above the action, Luke Holman’s band creates a surprisingly full sound. Tom Paris’s costumes embrace the camp identity, while Jamie Platt’s lighting and Nick Lodge’s sound keep the action clear even when the room is at its busiest.

Matz’s score has real class. The melodies are tuneful, well structured and rooted in classic American musical comedy, with the title song proving instantly catchy. Big Fish to Fry, performed by a quartet of presidents reflecting on why none of them stopped Hoover, is particularly smart. Ben Ferguson’s arrangements and orchestrations give the compact band warmth and colour, while the cast deliver consistently strong vocals.

The remaining work is not about making the musical shorter. It is about giving its biggest moments more lift. At approximately two hours and twenty five minutes including the interval, the evening moves well. Act One appears to build towards a major company number before closing on a quieter solo for Hoover. It serves the story, but does not provide the theatrical release the interval needs.

Act Two contains several excellent sequences, particularly Helen’s number and the presidents’ quartet, but it could use more of the sparkle that makes the title number come alive. Whenever the production embraces its size and lets the full company fill the room, it becomes the show you sense it could be. The finale needs that same treatment. The show does not need rebuilding. It needs a few more moments where it lets this cast loose.

Here Comes J. Edgar! is one of the most ambitious productions I have seen at the King’s Head. It is melodic, irreverent and frequently hilarious, led by a magnificent London stage debut from Bryan Batt. The musical is more interested in getting a laugh than delivering a detailed political reckoning, but that is clearly the show it wants to be. As entertainment, it works.

With stronger climaxes at the end of both acts and a little more of the sparkle found in its best company numbers, it is easy to imagine the production taking another step towards the West End. For now, it brings a level of musical theatre craft and commercial ambition to Upper Street that the King’s Head can barely contain.