Spitting Image has been part of British culture since it first aired on ITV in 1984. Running for 132 episodes over 12 years, with its satirical themes and no-holds-barred punchlines, this puppet show had a huge fan base. It was revived in 2020, and now has a fully-fledged stage musical in the West-End.
We are guided through Spitting Image: Idiots Assemble by none other than Sir Ian McKellen (who is a serious ac-tor). The soon-to-be-crowned King is in a crisis, having noticed that the fabric of society is in tatters and must be fixed before he can be coronated. To do this, he enlists the help of the two-foot-tall Tom Cruise to bring together a crack-team to fix it. This team must fight the powers of the evil troupe who are responsible, led by Boris Johnson of course.
This production stays true to its roots. It is hilarious, horrendous, and pulls no punches whether satirising Greta Thunberg or Donald Trump. Whilst the writers have wheeled a lot of outdated tropes, they still resonated with the audience and are as relevant as ever. The show still has buckets of originality and bang up to date moments; whether it’s the possessed horror of Suella Braverman who we see bring herself to orgasm in act 1, or the Scottish screams of Nicola Sturgeon as she is chased by the police. All in all, the writing is punchy, and funny, and makes you wince in all the right places. The most impressive work of this whole production is the puppeteers. Their craftsmanship and energy sizzle on stage. Well done to Antony Antunes, Katie Bradley, Rianna Ash, Kaidan Dawkins, Bertie Harris, Emily Essery, Pena Iiyambo, Jackie Lam, Will Palmer, Bright Ong, Helen Parke, Tom Quinn, Richard Vorster, and Faue Weerasinghe. Without every one of these performers the show would fall apart and lack the engagement from the audience. Fantastic work!
The life-size puppets would remain somewhat lifeless without the vocal work put in by the voice-over artists on this show. Their dexterity and eye for idiosyncrasies in the celebrities and politicians that they are vocalising are brilliant. Kier Starmer, Angela Rayner, and Donald Trump need a mention for the accuracy and brilliance here. The choice to pre-record the voice overs for the show is divisive for me. On the one hand, it ensures that delivery is accurate every night so that the puppeteers can be absolutely in sync with the recordings. Additionally, the show is updated fortnightly, so the recordings age well. On the other hand, pre-recorded voices come with a plethora of issues for a live show. Audiences laugh and applaud in different places each night, and some voice work was either lost in this or awkward pauses arose. It also takes away a uge selling point for live theatre over watching this on BritBox: LIVE! I would have been spellbound if the voice work had been performed live, and I think it would not only have added to our experience as an audience, but also reduced some of the negatives permeating this production. The production value is very high, and there is no shortage of set and costume changes. Whether outside Number 10, or in the English Channel on a small boat, the set, costume, and lighting by Alice Power, Tim Mitchell, Nina Dunn, and Richard Brooker were all fantastic. The biggest let down on this show for an audience is the pacing. Hindered in part by the nature of recording all the dialogue, lots of the scene changes felt clunky and awkward. The writing, from the brilliant and hilarious mins of Al Murray, Matt Forde, and Sean Foley, also sometimes failed to properly deliver a punchline to end a scene, leaving the audience in a limbo wondering whether to applaud or not, which was often met with an awkward silence and applause as the scene changed.
For a night out in the glittering West End (somewhere James Corden is thrilled to return to) Spitting Image does the trick. It strikes out against disgraceful behaviours and attitudes that are the trademark of the current government, and comments with its full chest about important issues, such as immigration, the press, and corruption, without letting up on the laughs. I mean, where else can you see Carrie Johnson’s singing nipples, Jacob Reese-Mogg as a Praying Mantis, and Suella Braverman tell Gary Lineka to f*ck off (other than, maybe, the Cabinet)?Review by Max Topliss
Rating: ★★★
Seat: Grand Circle B 1 | Price of Ticket: £102
