
Today I go to Annapolis where the Annapolis Opera has engaged me to do a presentation for its members on “Gilbert & Sullivan in America” in advance of the company’s production of “The Pirates of Penzance” two weeks from now. By pure coincidence, D.C.’s prestigious regional theater Arena Stage is hosting a production of “Makado,” a parody of the Victorian pair’s greatest work “The Mikado.”
To say the thing is witless and a vile blight on culture, intelligence, and one of the greatest entertainment repertoires in the English language would be to engage in criminal understatement. At a full 2.5 hours, a group of talented singers do relative justice to Sullivan’s melodies while emitting pointlessly and incompetently re-written lyrics. In between the songs is dialogue that either quotes Gilbert’s original libretto out of sync with what passes for the “plot,” or injects what the brainless—but woke!—adapters think is hilarious. (The mostly puzzled audience seldom agreed.)
“Makado” is an acronym for “Make America Kingly, Do!” Yet there is literally not a single reference in the new lyrics or the dialogue that makes a satiric observation relating to the title. The role of Ko-Ko in the show is a Donald Trump imitator, who announces the parody version of the famous “Little List”song as “The Lord High Retributioner.” That’s not bad, except that Ko-Ko isn’t the “king” either in the original or in this abortion. That would be the Mikado, you know, the Emperor of Japan, and the character arrives and behaves like the despot he is. The role is also played by a woman despite the Mikado’s iconic “Let the Punishment Fit the Crime” solo being written for a bass-baritone and sounding awful in the soloist’s mush-mouthed contralto.
The level of humor in the show is exemplified by the lead female character of Yum-Yum being called “Num-Num.” The original’s opening chorus (“If you want to know who we are, we are gentlemen of Japan”) is now sung by a chorus of two characters, and they are “billionaires of Japan.”
As is so often the case with adapted and even straight productions of G&S shows, the director and collaborators didn’t do their homework, don’t understand the genre, don’t respect their betters, and delude themselves into thinking they can improve the originals that have endured for over a century for good reason. The Savoy Operas are in the public domain and have been for decades, so, like Will Shakespeare’s canon , they suffer this abuse frequently. This pathetic attempt, however, is so incompetent and odoriferous that it could only be tolerated by Trump Deranged hysterics who would applaud a musical version “My Mother the Car” as long as someone sang a song called “Trump is a Poopy-Head.” That the renowned Arena Stage would agree to let its name be sullied by association with such amateurish junk nicely illustrates how bonkers the Distict’s elite have become.
I an hoping Annapolis is a bit better.
EA has four posts about “The Mikado” and progressive politics (Full Disclosure: I have played Ko-Ko twice and directed the show once). You can find them here.





Matthew B. scored a Comment of the Day by raising an issue I had never thought about before: how the misapplication of PowerPoint leads to inadequate training and information dissemination within organizations and bureaucracies. He also references the reluctance of managers to know when to hand over decision-making to subordinates. That is something I have thought about, a great deal.
Two of my favorite movies illustrate how competent leaders and managers know when to delegate a crucial decision down. “Topsy-Turvy,” the superb 1999 film depicting the creation of “The Mikado” by Gilbert and Sullivan, accurately depicts the real incident when, after the final rehearsal, W.S. Gilbert told the “Mikado” cast that he was cutting “My Object All Sublime,” also known as “The Mikado’s Song.” Gilbert was a tyrannical director, and the cast was terrified of incurring his wrath. This time, however, they stood up to him. The cast as one told him that he was making a mistake. The soloist, Richard Temple, they told their shocked and steaming director who also had conceived of the song, should have the chance to perform it in front of an audience. His fellow cast members were certain it would be a hit. Gilbert, recognizing the certitude the cast must have had to risk his fury at being contradicted, decided that his performers might have a clearer understanding of the show even that he had, and relented. Temple would sing about letting “the punishment fit the crime” on opening night.
The song was an instant sensation, like “The Mikado” itself, and is still one of the most quoted of all G&S songs.
The other example is at the climax of “Hoosiers,” the great basketball film based on the true story of the miraculous Indiana state championship won by a tiny school from Milan, Ind. in 1954. During the last time-out before the team’s last chance to score, which would, if successful, give the team a one-point victory over their greatly favored competition in the championship game, the coach (Gene Hackman), who has led the ragtag group this far by emphasizing teamwork over individual achievement, lays out a play in which the team’s superstar, Jimmy Chitwood will be a decoy. He plans for another player to take the final shot, but the team doesn’t move. “What’s the matter with you?” he shouts as his players just stare, looking hesitant. “If I get the shot, I’ll make it,” Jimmy says, after a long pause. So the coach, who has insisted all season that his word was law, makes the same decision Gilbert did. When your subordinates are that sure, trust them. They know better than you.
Jimmy shoots and scores the winning basket as time runs out.
Here is Matthew B.’s Comment of the Day on “Comment Of The Day: ‘Catching Up: Professional Ethics And The Challenger Disaster’”:
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