The Mongol Khan at the London Coliseum – review

There was nothing small or subtle about the Mongol Empire of the 13^th Century – it’s only right then that this significant first visit from the Mongolian State Academic Theatre of Drama is equally as unashamedly epic in scale and just as rich in bravura as it is poor in subtlety. With a massive cast of 70 set upon the enormous and ravishingly decorated Coliseum stage, this is like a nomadic Mogol State all of its own.

The Khan (the ruler of the nomadic Mongols) is borne two sons within days of each other by his two queens. One is born of love to his young and beautiful queen consort, the other, either some kind of immaculate conception or a betrayal of trust from his older and embittered queen. The Khan is very clear: “he has not spilled his seed in her” for some time and ponders if she may “have been impregnated by a gust of wind”, before concluding that “a woman with an itch, knows how to scratch it”.

The Mongol Khan is based on a 1998 tragedy by Mongolian writer, Lkhagvasuren Bavuu and adapted by Timberlake Wertenbaker with translations by John Man. Whether or not some of the dire language has been lost in translation somewhere along the journey is unclear, but it raises titters from the audience where it appears to be mostly unintended.

Conspiracy leads to baby-swapping and power-grabbing by the Khan’s trusted chancellor, Egereg. He is the father of the illegitimate child and is hell-bent on securing his own destiny within the Mongol Empire. It all, of course, ends in tragedy, and it’s a jolly old spectacle to get us there, but it does so at an almost glacial pace.

Birvaa Myagmar and Odbayar Battagtokh’s score is a mainly tuneless fusion of rhythmic drum beating and almost cinematic-sounding underscore. Like so much of the action that longs for emotion and depth, the score pleads for melody and romance. It is pumped into the Coliseum with plenty of gusto, however, and lends itself to the action and bows to Khashkhuu Khatankhuyag’s large-scale choreography. Dancers fill the steeply raked stage to create some impressive moments and look dazzling in the glorious costumes of Bold Ochirjantsan’s designs that make for a visual feast for the senses.

For all of the moments of visual satisfaction, there are plenty more of total bewilderment. Dancers cavorting in Lycra body suits decorated with body muscle and red sinewy streamers contort in an unpleasant moment of breast-grabbing eroticism between Egereg and the adulterous queen. Be prepared for the uncomfortable sniggers in the seats around you.

The small number of principal performers all possess plenty of stage presence, although they each stand upon the stage and proclaim their lines rather than inhabit them. Erdenebileg Ganbold’s Khan is robust and fierce, whilst Bold-Erdene Sugar’s Egereg is suitably duplicitous and menacing. Uranchimeg Urtnasan and Dulguun Odkhuu give us lots of screaming and wailing as the two queens, whilst Dorjsuren Shadav makes an uncomfortable portrayal of disability as Achir, the Crown Prince, who gleefully demands: “let me play at killing people” whilst his father refers to him as the “runt that can’t find its mother’s milk”.

There is a cultural significance to this company being in London, although it is an unfortunate missed opportunity that in this form, The Mongol Khan is overwrought with such melodrama that we learn nothing of the culture, the people or their history. The sheer scale of this undertaking is in itself mightily impressive and actually, often quite enjoyable. There is the feeling of a theme park level of shallowness to the story-making, yet it is on an almost Olympic scale. As baffling and bewildering as it is beautiful and breathtaking, it’s certainly unlike anything on a London stage currently.