Here Comes J Edgar! musical comedy at King’s Head Theatre – review

If Mel Brooks and Harvey Fierstein collaborated on an old-fashioned musical comedy about one of the most controversial figures in 20th-century American history, I imagine this would be the result. With book and lyrics by Harry Shearer and Tom Leopold – whose collective resumés include small screen classics like Seinfeld, Cheers and The Simpsons – toe-tapping music by a composer (the late Peter Matz) steeped in old school showbiz, and Broadway leading man Bryan Batt in tow, Here Comes J Edgar! arrives with a decent pedigree.

That this lavish show is premiering beneath Upper Street rather than in the chocolate box-y plush of a conventional theatre, where it more obviously belongs, probably says more about the parlous costs of producing in New York than it does about this creative team’s ambition. Still, here it is, and Broadway’s loss is Islington’s gain; this is an absolute scream. There’s nothing profound or high-minded about Here Comes J Edgar!: it’s just a bunch of seasoned professionals making a polished, life-enhancing song and dance about a conniving, corrupt blackmailer who wielded unchecked power throughout eight US presidencies, and was also rumoured to be a massive “closet job”.

If you think the term “closet job” is an outdated pejorative, as indeed it is, then brace yourself for a musical where the majority of the humour is predicated on the idea that the anti-hero’s alleged sexuality was a source of constant secrecy and shame. The corridors of power in mid-20th-century America were arguably even more unsympathetic to a thin-skinned gay statesman with a penchant for cross-dressing and personal grooming than they are now. Shearer, Leopold and director Josh Seymour get plenty of comic mileage, most of it fabulous, out of the gulf between J Edgar Hoover’s fearsome professional image and, at least as depicted here, his personal flamboyance.

They also, in tandem with composer Matz and ever-stylish choreographer Bill Deamer, mine a rich seam of Broadway knowledge and know-how. Rather like The Book of Mormon (which this show occasionally resembles) and this year’s Best Musical Tony winner Schmigadoon!, Here Comes J Edgar! gives musical theatre obsessives a good old time, recognising the references to Golden Age tuners. I spotted Carousel, Guys and Dolls, My Fair Lady, Fiddler on the Roof, Gypsy… but there are doubtless tonnes more. It’s a loving homage, from Ben Ferguson’s satisfyingly full-sounding arrangements to the sharply elegant period costumes of Tom Paris, but one with sharp satirical teeth behind the surface gloss.

Batt is diabolically good as J Edgar Hoover, combining twinkle-eyed charm, preening camp self-obsession, and a hint of chilling ruthlessness. He’s a master comedian, a frequently thrilling singer, and a delirious centre to the unhinged shenanigans surrounding him. In Batt’s accomplished hands, Hoover is a character to fall in love with even while being acutely aware that he is a truly terrible person.

That presents an overall tonal problem for the show. After repeatedly establishing what an absolute scumbag J Edgar is, the overlong second half includes a sweet duet extolling the joys of growing older with his “lifetime assistant” (partner) Clyde Tolson, played with magnificent queeny venom by Hugo Bolton, and it’s not clear if we should find it ironic or genuinely touching.

If act two gets a little scrappy and repetitive, the sheer energy of a superb cast carries the show to triumph. Laura Medforth is sensational as the dowdy secretary with an unexpected wild side, who carries the most inappropriate torch for Hoover. Simon Anthony makes a hilarious meal out of serial killer John Dillinger and naive President Lyndon B Johnson, and Judith Owen’s Lady in Red cameo is an object lesson in high camp.

The overall impression of Seymour’s chaotic yet focused staging is of a cartoon-made-flesh, and it’s irresistible. You don’t need to understand every reference, but having some idea of who these historical figures are undoubtedly helps. It might be beneficial to do a bit of background reading on J Edgar Hoover and his milieu before catching this. But catch it you should, if you want proper belly laughs, the uplift of a well-crafted score, and the chance to watch an entertainer as fine as Batt at close quarters.