REVIEW: Essgee's Pirates of Penzance - Savoyards Musical Comedy Society

Essgee’s Pirates of Penzance

Presented by: Savoyards Musical Comedy Society

Venue: Iona Performing Arts Centre

Date attended: 26 September 2026

Original work: W.S. Gilbert and Arthur Sullivan | Adaptation: Essgee Entertainment

Director / Set Designer: David Harrison | Assistant Director: Joshua Moore

Choreographer: Julianne Burke | Assistant Choreographer: Caley Monro

Musical Director: Nicky Griffith

Stage Manager: CJ Avery

Costume Coordinator: Kim Heslewood

Wigs, Hair & Makeup: Lynne Swain

Lighting: Gabrielle Burton

Sound: Ethan Houley and David Sowdon

Photography: Sharyn Hall and Bec Swain

“With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal.”

They sing this extremely loudly. Subtlety is nowhere to be found. Gilbert and Sullivan wrote the original nearly 150 years ago. Essgee Entertainment’s 1994 Australian adaptation gives The Pirates of Penzance a poppier makeover while keeping G&S’s musical parody intact. Savoyards takes that already cheeky version and piles on another layer of theatrical mischief. Director David Harrison fills the production with plenty of fourth-wall breaks, audience interaction, and exaggerated movement. The result reminds me of Spamalot and Robin Hood: Men in Tights.

Frederic (Oliver King) has spent his young life among pirates (and Ruth, the only woman he has ever known). Then he encounters Major-General Stanley’s many daughters and the poor boy doesn’t stand a chance... Frederic’s sudden exposure to eligible young women turns into a magnificent display of peacocking. He poses, thrusts his pelvis, and behaves like a male bird midway through an elaborate mating dance. The daughters keep spawning from nowhere while he sings, swooning in increasing numbers. It’s like watching The Bachelor set in 1879. King’s singing has a warm, rounded, old-fashioned quality that suits Frederic beautifully, like a romantic operetta lead who has wandered into a Monty Python sketch.

Of course, the sole woman Frederic knows before all this is Ruth (Meg Kiddle), his former nursemaid, now considerably older than him and determined to convince him she’s a viable romantic option (totally normal right?). Kiddle sings “When Frederic Was a Little Lad” with a lovely warmth, and her voice suits the more traditional operetta writing particularly well. Ruth is already such an odd character that I’d happily see Kiddle push her characterisation further into the ridiculous. There’s room for more shamelessness in Ruth’s wildly inappropriate pursuit of this bewildered young man.

Mabel (Kat Suschinsky) wastes no time staking her claim on Frederic's attention. Suschinsky’s operatic voice sails above the surrounding silliness, while her characterisation has a sweet aggression to it. Mabel can flash a pretty smile while violently elbowing her sisters out of the way. Suschinsky milks the contradiction perfectly. Against the dizzy fluttering around Frederic, her vocal confidence always powers through without fail.

Anna Roche-Kelly, Ashlin Cork, and Constanza Acevedo Burckhardt are a ball as Edith, Kate, and Isobel. Decked out in vibrant dresses and blonde wigs, they look like a Victorian girl group ready to bust out “Three Little Maids” if given the chance. Alas, their actual song “Climbing Over Rocky Mountain” demands an extraordinary effort from them all. They’re moving, acting, navigating musical complexity, and keeping their harmonies precise while pretending their brains aren't whirring like crazy. As for the ensemble, the Stanley daughters collectively exude the energy of 24 women vying for a single rose.

Jordan Ross’s Pirate King treats the entire theatre as territory available for conquest. Between the swagger, audience play, games with the spotlight operator, and excursions into the aisles, Ross keeps reacting to whatever is happening around him. That gives his comedy a freshly invented quality, even when every beat has obviously been rehearsed. He’s charming, witty, and makes the Pirate King look like he’s having just as much fun as we are. Vocally, Ross’s stunning deep tone reminds me of the Lion from The Wizard of Oz, which completely suits this larger-than-life rogue.

His pirates follow accordingly. At one point I spotted an ensemble member running with Jack Sparrow energy, and I momentarily forget which pirate universe we'd sailed into. That’s one of the pleasures of this enormous cast. There is always some piece of character business happening somewhere. In crowded scenes, watching the ensemble becomes its own activity. Everybody has been given permission to build a complete character rather than waiting politely for their next chorus entrance.

Warryn James' performance of “I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General” is a remarkable display of verbal dexterity, executed with precision by James, the orchestra, and all involved. He zips through it with the cheerful oblivion of a guy who’s just unknowingly dragged a whole crowd through a verbal marathon. Also, I didn't understand a word.

Act Two belongs to the policemen. Graham Colenutt leads a squad of glorious professional incompetents equipped with phony moustaches, wobbly legs, elaborate formations, and absolutely no desire to catch criminals. When the Foeman Bares His Steel” erupts into organised “Tarantara” pandemonium, while “When a Felon’s Not Engaged in His Employment” confirms that these men will perform virtually any activity available to them provided it does not resemble policing. Their commitment to doing their jobs as badly as possible is magnificent.

“With Cat-Like Tread” sees the pirates boldly claim to sneak around like ninjas, then make enough noise to wake the entire neighbourhood. Throw in a kickline, and any hope of stealth vanishes. Better yet, they keep providing an encore. And another. Ross’s Pirate King grows more exasperated each time the song refuses to die, until his frustration finally shifts toward the maestro, as though she personally has the power to stop this musical hostage situation. The joke is ancient and blatantly obvious, yet everybody commits to it so completely that it keeps getting funnier.

Musical Director Nicky Griffith conducts a 22-piece orchestra from upstage, with the musicians becoming part of the personality of the evening. Griffith is acknowledged throughout and occasionally steps outside the usual invisible-conductor role. Her finest act of piracy may be unleashing Pirates of the Caribbean on the audience. The full company’s rendition of “Hail, Poetry” is like finding a beautiful flower in the middle of a food fight. Sung a cappella, it strips away the orchestra and lets the ensemble’s harmonies speak for themselves. For a few minutes, this circus of pirates, policemen, and ladies turns into a very fine choir.

Julianne Burke and Caley Monro’s choreography understands that these people should never move as expected. Even when the stage is packed, the movement stays rooted in character. The Act One finale shows just how much coordination sits beneath the apparent disarray, with “Pray Observe the Magnanimity” moving from partnerwork into full-company choreography and carefully engineered mayhem.

Visually, Harrison’s set keeps the world bright and theatrical, with ship imagery, lattice structures, and vivid green and red sails. Kim Heslewood’s costumes favour colour over historical solemnity. Pirates arrive in layered, mismatched textures and accessories, while the Stanley daughters resemble a walking box of jewel-toned sweets. Lynne Swain’s wigs, hair, and makeup push the characters another step towards storybook beauty.

This is my first time seeing The Pirates of Penzance, and I’m surprised by just how contemporary the comedy can feel. The plot is absurd, everyone is trapped by increasingly dumb definitions of honour and duty, and nobody behaves themselves for more than thirty consecutive seconds. Savoyards gives the silliness room, trusts the performers to commit to it, and lets their large cast behave like they’ve all been invited to the same pirate-themed improv night. Some things simply survive the passage of time.