Review: Here Comes J Edgar Hoover, King’s Head Theatre

The first question is: who was J. Edgar Hoover? The answer: director of the FBI from 1935 to 1972. The second is: why write a musical about him? Well, here was a man who (allegedly) spent years hiding his own homosexuality while persecuting gay men and communists, (supposedly) blackmailed a succession of American presidents to keep his job and was rumoured to enjoy dressing in women’s clothes, so — why not? It’s rich material for book and lyric writers Harry Shearer (of The Simpsons and This Is Spinal Tap) and Tom Leopold (Seinfeld, Cheers). The music is written by Peter Matz who was an award winning composer and arranger before he died in 2002. The musical started out on US radio in 1994 so it’s been a long journey to get it on stage and it’s a great shame Matz didn’t get to see it.

The premise of Here Comes J. Edgar Hoover is simple. It’s 1972, Hoover is on his deathbed and is visited by his younger self, sending us back through the decades to chart his extraordinary career. On Sophia Pardon‘s deceptively simple set — little more than a desk, transformed by the clever use of nameplates, and a door — we meet Hoover’s domineering mother, devoted companion Clyde Tolson, long-suffering secretary Helen, assorted US Presidents, gangsters and just about everyone else who crossed his path.

This is a gleefully satirical portrait of a tyrant who destroyed countless lives while concealing his own truth. More importantly, it’s a terrific musical. The book is razor-sharp, the lyrics sparkle with wit and Matz’s score effortlessly shifts from heartfelt ballads to vaudeville and classic musical theatre. The two hours race by.

It’s also deliciously meta. Hoover is horrified to discover someone is telling his life story “and in a musical!” At one point he interrupts President Eisenhower mid-song to tell him he’s busy and can finish it elsewhere. The script is packed with glorious one-liners, including a drag party introduction of ‘I’m Victor and you must be the spoils’. At times it’s gloriously Brooksian (Mel, that is), complete with singing FBI agents, wilfully bad taste and jokes that refuse to acknowledge any sacred cows. Even President Kennedy’s trip to Dallas isn’t off limits. There are plenty of references to long-forgotten celebrities too; thankfully the programme includes a helpful guide.

The performances are outstanding across the board. Bryan Batt (best known from Mad Men) is magnificent as Hoover (either in a suit or a dress), combining arch campness with menace, delivering songs and dancing with effortless charm while dominating every scene. Hugo Bolton is wonderfully acerbic as Clyde Tolson, but also brings genuine pathos to their relationship. Laura Medforth is superb as Helen, whose hopeless devotion and unrequited love for her boss blinds her to the obvious, and her second-act showstopper is worth the ticket price alone. Marc Elliott is great fun as gossip columnist Walter Winchell, with a subtle running gag about his fading celebrity. There’s also a delightfully vampish one song cameo from jazz singer Judith Owen as Lady In Red. They’re supported by an outstanding ensemble who seamlessly switch between Presidents, gangsters, nurses and countless other characters with infectious energy and vitality. Josh Seymour‘s direction keeps everything moving at a cracking pace, while Tom Paris‘s immaculate costumes are perfect for every situation, as is Luke Holman’s musical direction.

Subtitled a comedy musical, Here Comes J. Edgar Hoover succeeds brilliantly on both fronts. It’s smart, outrageous, consistently funny and at its heart, a touching love story – even though the lovers are deep down evil. Don’t be surprised if it finds its way to a larger stage before long — I’d happily see it again.

Book & Lyrics by Harry Shearer & Tom Leopold
Music by Peter Matz
Directed by Josh Seymour
Choreographed by Bill Deamer
Musical Direction by Luke Holman
Set Design by Sophia Pardon
Costume Design by Tom Paris
Lighting Design by Jamie Platt
Sound Design by Nick Lodge

Here Comes J Edgar Hoover plays at King’s Head Theatre until Sunday 16 August