Review: MAMMA MIA! at Leeds Grand Theatre

“…a dazzling, sing-along celebration of love and friendship…”

MAMMA MIA! by Catherine Johnson, Leeds Grand Theatre

By Sean Sable

Want to know the worst thing about my husband? He doesn’t like ABBA. This, we can all agree, is not only a tragedy worth singing ballads about, but possibly grounds for divorce. Good thing he’s such a fantastic guy, because that alone has him on thin ice. Me? ABBA is basically a kind of religion. The Swedish pop-disco-glam sensation was nearly anthemic in my childhood. At five years old, my biggest hope in life was to be a dancing queen, young and sweet, only seventeen. In fact, you can almost chalk up a 30-year love affair with dance to two musical groups: ABBA and Air Supply. I will say nothing more about the latter except that it may have sparked my obsession with perfecting a stadium-rock guitar slide when I was six. But ABBA taught me about joy, about freedom, and about a Mexican revolutionary named Fernando. Who other than Agnetha, Benny, Björn, & Frida could pull off a glam-pop love song built around possibly one of the most unmelodic words of all time—Waterloo? And with Midsommar Eve practically upon us, it would be rude to my inner Swede to miss the 25th Anniversary tour of Mamma Mia! at Leeds Grand.

Catherine Johnson’s book hasn’t shifted an inch in twenty-five years and it’s easy to see why. Phyllida Lloyd has directed Mamma Mia! since its first West End performance in 1999, and Judy Craymer’s original conviction, that ABBA’s back catalogue could carry a story rather than simply accompany one, still holds the whole thing together. The story begins on the fictional island of Kalokairi, in the twenty-four hours before Sophie’s wedding. She’s read her mother Donna’s old diary and discovered the names of three men her mother had romantic trysts with—all of whom might be her father. Pretending to be her mother and hoping to find a father to walk her down the aisle, she’s invited all three men to attend her wedding in the bold hope that she will know which one is her father simply by looking at him. It’s a flimsy but lovable premise wrapped in glorious pop, and last night’s performance made ABBA’s catalogue sound as fresh under Martin Koch’s musical supervision as it did a quarter of a century ago.

Leaning into the simplicity of Greek island architecture, Mark Thompson’s set does a remarkable amount with comparatively little. We are given two crescent-shaped taverna walls that pivot and interlock like yin and yang, reshaping themselves into a bar, a bedroom, a town square or a church depending on which way they’ve turned. A rippled blue-and-white backdrop gives us the open water of the Aegean, a full moon tracks the twenty-four-hour timeframe, and a single modest olive tree hanging low at the back suggests the Mediterranean landscape in a single stroke. There was something about the set design that was a little reminiscent of a bygone theatre era—a time in the late 90s, when big shows were looking to explore their subjects deeply. When set design was more than a big open space waiting to be filled with a sofa or a backdrop and when the subject of the play worked in close conversation with the design. Last night’s design felt like the organic evolution of the story, rather than a toybox that existed to simply hold more interesting things.
 
Howard Harrison’s lighting showed the same attention to detail with a keen eye for the small touches that make Greek island life special. From the saturated blue colour washes to the white blare of the midday sun, the lighting was ripped from the pages of the best travel magazines. I particularly enjoyed the way shapes carved into the lighting created structure, with shadows suggesting louvred shutters or the dappling of trees. I make no secret that I believe pretty much every show needs more of two things: soundscape and practical lighting. So, I was also thrilled when festoon lights and chandeliers dropped from the ceiling to complete the space.

The sound, courtesy of Andrew Bruce and Bobby Aitken, was less consistent: both acts opened with an instrumental medley that was both sudden and loud. A very slight fade-in might have saved my neighbour from a jump-scare scream that left her tittering with embarrassment. There were also some slight modulation issues in ensemble numbers that occasionally allowed one mic tower over the rest of the company without any obvious reason why.

The cast was exceptional, with Jenn Griffin’s Donna leading the charge. ABBA is quite demanding to sing, requiring a slide from head to chest voice with equal power, and I was awestruck at her ability to maintain such beautiful resonance across her range. Whilst her singing was superior, I did have a small niggle during the titular piece. Her energy felt a little subdued for a number that runs on barely contained comic panic. Lydia Hunt’s Sophie was the night’s clear highlight: clear-voiced, with a bright-eyed enthusiasm that is easy to adore. She was so perfect for the role, I can no longer imagine anyone else playing the part. Sarah Earnshaw’s Tanya and Rosie Glossop’s Rosie had some serious fans sitting in the row behind me, and I have to agree with the audience assessment: they ran away with our hearts. Every time they walked on stage, you knew you were in for a good time. Joe Grundy’s Sky had insta-charm and a smile that melts knees. Regrettably, his singing was a little rocky, though some strange fading from the mic might have been to blame; so I am choosing to remember his grin and forget about his notes.

Mark Thompson’s costumes were a joy, particularly in the ensembles. In the second act opener, there is a nightmare dream sequence filled with neon diving gear under black light, daisy-printed swim caps and flippers included. Van Laast’s choreography matches that same vivacious energy throughout, never more so than when Donna and the Dynamos reunite in white ABBA costumes for “Super Trouper,” a riotous song and dance number. I may have cackled my way through the entire performance (my condolences if you were sitting next to me).

It’s always fun to come back to a story so many years after you were first introduced to it. When I first saw Mamma Mia!, I remember empathising with Sophie. Twenty-five years later, I am proud to be more eager to hang out with Tanya and Rosie, complete with a handsome bartender declaring his love for me (shhh… the husband never has to know) whilst I enjoy a fruity drink with a little umbrella.

Mamma Mia! is a dazzling, sing-along celebration of love and friendship under the summer sun. Midsommar is the perfect time to let your Swedish flag fly with the 25th Anniversary tour of Mamma Mia! at Leeds Grand.

MAMMA MIA! plays at Leeds Grand Theatre until Saturday 27 June. Tickets are available here.

Sean Sable is a Yorkshire-based freelance writer and editor specialising in Young Adult and Horror fiction, frequently at the same time. When she isn’t buried under a pile of books and manuscripts, she is looking for her keys and having extensive one-sided conversations, in Swedish, with her deaf cat. You can find her online at: www.seansable.co.uk