Having been my don’t-miss viewing on 80s and 90s TV, I knew Spitting Image The Musical (Idiots Assemble) was going to be a winner, writes Michael Holland.
Before the curtain goes up and a voice tells us that anyone without a sense of humour who might be offended can ‘F**k off!’, instantly reminding us it is business as usual for Spitting Image.
The characters are newer (or older), the voices are now provided by a more contemporary generation, and the writers are a different breed, but the puppets themselves still look a bit Flucked up, which is perfect.
The Royals are the first to appear on stage with Harry and Meghan put to one side in a Royal Box, though Meghan still counts this as her ‘West End debut’.
The premise of the story is that the fabric of society is threatened by recent political leaders and that the ‘fabric’ is measured by the condition of a Royal pair of pants that are kept locked away until such drastic times as these. When they are revealed we see that the underwear is rotten.
The politicians are then introduced to us before a rat appears to tell us, ‘In London, you are always just two yards away from a Russian oligarch’. Cue Putin who does a rather wonderful song and dance: Putin on the Blitz.
The tale is set just before Charles’ coronation but with the pants in such a state the crowning could be cancelled. He needs a team to sort the mess out, and who else to pull off such a task but Tom Cruise who enters the stage on a wire, as he does and seeks to find a Magnificent Seven.
He quickly recruits Ru Paul to help him audition others for the impossible mission. After a catwalk of stars parade their wares before them, they opt for Idris Elba, Angela Rayner, Greta Thunberg, Meghan Markle and Tyson Fury.
Their enemy is the world’s most evil men: Trump, Murdoch, Zuckerberg, the head of Saudi Arabia, James Corden and Boris Johnson – who wants to usurp Charles and become king himself.
Spitting Image has not lost its bite and everyone who is targeted in this Idiots Assemble production deserves their public evisceration. Braverman is depicted as the girl in The Exorcist while Gary Lineker is called upon to perform the exorcism; Priti Patel is a witch; Trump only has to open his mouth as himself to be a laughing stock, and Farage, who got the biggest cheer of the evening when Tyson Fury pummelled him to death.
The Daily Mail gets it, and pretty much every Tory Minister is shown up to be a puke-spewing sycophant, so the laughs kept coming and coming.
Two Metropolitan Police officers gave a brilliant version of Chas & Dave’s Rabbit, Rabbit, while Carrie Johnson sang ‘Men think with their dicks’ accompanied by four singing and dancing penises; something I never thought I’d see.
There is a brilliant Nicola Sturgeon, and I was reminded why I admire Angela Rayner so much. And Liz Truss as a cabbage is hilarious.
At the end, Johnson sings an English version of ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’ as headlines of horror are projected behind him to remind us all exactly what he achieved before cowardly scuttling off instead of facing up to the deeds the Conservatives brought to the nation: Covid deaths, food banks, austerity, lies, croneyism and scandal after scandal. The fun stopped about then and the booing began as the reality hit home.
But just for a short while because this is satire and our anger should be saved for those that have earned it. We stood to applaud this magnificent show that put those people in the spotlight to be mocked and laughed at.
Spitting Image The Musical (Idiots Assemble) is a masterclass in a synched-up script, voice and puppetry and is being rewritten almost every day to keep up with the fast-changing face of politics. Perhaps this review will be as out of date as the resigning Tories by next week.
My favourite puppet? Greta Thunberg. My sidekick’s? The ‘smouldering’ Idris Elba.
Get your tickets now.
Phoenix Theatre, Charing Cross Road, WC2H 0JP until August 26th. Tues – Sat 7.30pm. Thur & Sat matinees 2.30pm. Sunday 3pm. Admission: £30 – £175.
Booking: www.SpittingImageTheMusical.com
