Book of Mormon and Don Carlo share the London stage, and a poke at religion

On first glance, you wouldn't imagine there was anything linking them.

The Book of Mormon.  A rollicking, wickedly satirical musical from the creators of South Park that might also be called puerile, obscene and offensive.  But so funny I laughed until I hurt.  Don Carlos. A 4-hour epic grand opera by Verdi, directed by the world-reknown Anthony Pappano and staring the even more famous Johann Kauffman.  High culture doesn't get much higher.  At opposite ends of the scale?

Perhaps.  But both were on the London stage this month.  Both were equally enjoyable, both were incredibly tough tickets to get and both used art to cast a very wary eye over religion.

Let's start with the Mormons.  If anything, I suspect this show will be an even bigger hit here than in the States.  First, because the Brits are less easily offended.  And second, because the naive, cheerful, blundering innocence of the young Mormon protagonists is pretty much the way the Brits see all Americans.  Thus in London, there's an added layer of meaning as the show becomes a commentary on American culture itself.

It's not for the easily offended.  The simple plot comes up against some horrific issues as our cheerful missionaries land in darkest Africa and confront a warlord threatening clitoral circumcision of our young heroine.  Aids, famine, raping babies, God abandoning his people and suppressed homosexuality all turn up, along with language to make a hardened longshoreman blush.  That should be grim going, but not in the hands of the South Park boys, who've always used humour to plumb some grim depths.  The music, pacing and characters remind you of a cheerful ... even innocent ... high school musical, and that bizarre contrast ads to the laughs.  The scenes when one of our heroes reveals Orlando as his dream of paradise, when another baptises his first girl (an obvious double for losing his virginity), the ironic take on Disney's "Hakuna Matata" and the big production number that is the "spooky Mormon hell dream" are all so funny you'll be fighting to breathe.

At the centre is, of course, a grand send-up of Mormonism, pushed beyond ridiculous as the show reveals its foundation myths of Jewish tribes in pre-historic America, golden tablets found in farm fields and the promise of your own planet in the afterlife.  The official Mormon response, reportedly, has been to share the joke, buying advertising in show programmes.  I can't help but recall the Catholic response to Life of Brian, which made them look small minded and made the film an even bigger success.  (Is it time for Life of Brian, the musical?)

I wonder if anyone at the Vatican banned Don Carlo when it first came out because, frankly, it doesn't
do many favours for the establishment in Rome.  The Grand Inquisitor is a villain of the highest degree, and the church casts a malign shadow across the plot.  Which, much simplified, is as follows:  Carlo, the son of Philip II of Spain, is supposed to marry a French princess and end war between the two countries.  Prince and princess fall in love and look to a happy future, but this is opera and it's only Act 1.  So that's not going to happen.  Politics wed the young princess to Carlo's father instead.  Leaving the next 4 acts for the prince to deal with thwarted love and serious paternal issues through involvement in revolution in the Netherlands and protest against the dreaded inquisition.

This opera isn't produced too often, probably because it's of almost Wagnerian length, but the plot rips along at a good pace and has enough twists and turns to make it closer to modern melodrama or soap opera than the great German's myth-based epics.   This is one it's great to see in a place like the Royal Opera House, where they can pull out the stops on sets, costumes and extras.  The scene where they burn the heretics, complete with golden cathedral and lavish royal procession, was magnificent.   But, frankly, so was the forest in which our star-crossed lovers met at the beginning, and the grand tomb of Charles V where everything comes to a climax at the end.

This was a sell-out thanks to the star turn of opera man-of-the-moment Jonas Kauffman who was, as expected, both wonderful to hear and to look at.  However, I must admit he seemed no stronger than an astonishing ensemble cast.  Elisabetta (princess, then queen) was strong and poignant, the king ominous yet somehow pitiable, and the Grand Inquisitor chilling.  There is a moment when he turns on King Philip, drawing himself up to issue a warning as the music swells, that's just as good as when the ghost arrives for dinner with Don Giovanni.

Ironically, it's the lowbrow show with the naughty humour that may leave you with a more positive feel for religion.  After sending it up for two hours, at the end of Book of Mormon you're left with a message that the details of religion really don't matter as long as you can combine stories and traditions to get people to do good things.  Meanwhile, the operatic tragedy at the end of Don Carlo leaves you thinking all religion is bad, and particularly dangerous when combined with politics.  Both, whatever their nuances, left me vastly entertained.