Review of ‘The Diana Mixtape’: “High-energy parody drags audiences into an enjoyable Manila-thrilla against Camilla”

The People’s Princess relives onstage through this new tribute act — starring five A-list drag queens reenacting her car crash of a marriage to King Charles. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show — to let us know if this musical tribute act is bound to run shorter than a candle in the wind.

I might be unwell, but I’m handsome as hell. Oh, no — that was the shitty Broadway abomination that Netflix traumatised us with during the lockdown. The start of that verse is probably the only line that made sense (despite its hideous ring) in that embarrassing assemblage of narrative tripe, with rhymes so infuriating that they make the words from Love Never Dies sound like a work of Shakespeare.

The entire world watched that monstrosity emerge under the spotlight. Most laughed. And so, there had to come the moment for a new attempt to bring the People’s Princess back from the dead and onto the stage — five simultaneous times. It’s a whole hand of Dianas colonising the Outernet and reenacting the drama that so many others (still not that old) vicariously experienced all through the 90s — only that now we get Britney, Gaga, and Katy to tell us about (at least, in spirit).

God save our noble queens! This joyous celebration of Diana’s legacy is a treat to the eyes and a blast to the ears. My feet may be sore after standing for over one and a half hours on the so-called dance floor — there are not that many opportunities to move along, nor do you feel compelled to do so. Yet, my thirst for a drag extravaganza exploring some sordid royal affairs (is there other kind, though?) is quite satisfied.

The show takes audiences through the love story (for lack of a better word) between Charles and Diana. It’s a party everyone is invited to, but we already knew that — and some even beat us to the punch (and surely fist) a few years ago. Lush numbers, delivered through impeccable choreographies and arresting lighting, serve as both a recounting tool and an opportunity for viewers to break into song.

It’s highly amusing — and it can stay as such if the spectacularity of the piece is our only focus. Some excerpts also convey irony and occasional specks of wit through a cleverly chosen repertoire — to see Queen Elizabeth singing ‘I’m Your Commander’ (with her monogram woven into the title) is just an inch away from a stroke of genius. But on the whole, the dramaturgy’s cracks are too deep not to be palpable.

Although conceived as essentially a sung-through tribute, the script fails to maintain the plot’s pace at the right cadence. We have a framework of songs perfectly put into place — none of them are dispensable. But the path leading to each of them is still too sketchy — overall, it feels rushed and missing the necessary strength to boost the start of every rendition. Nobody’s asking for the next musical masterpiece, but words like ‘homage’ or ‘parody’ shouldn’t act as excuses for a weak narration.

The absence of sharper jokes and better written humour just adds to the problem. In the end, it comes across as a themed concert (which, in all fairness, that’s what the title somehow suggests). However, the show attempts to be something else. And more importantly, it should. After a few numbers, a sense of monotonousness starts to lurk around — never landing (kudos to its generally brilliant troupe), but anyway latent. By the time we reach the finale, we are supposed to be touched. Yet, that sensation is unlikely to materialise — simply because they haven’t put enough effort into delving into our emotions.

The cast makes up for those faults to a considerable extent. Their natural comicality and goofy flair masks that thin layer of flatness that blemishes the material. Their chemistry and stamina are electrifying — and the smoothness the whole show presents is striking. Every element of the performance is beautifully polished — excellent blocking, lavish visuals, and complete deftness in its execution.

Among them, Divina de Campo earns a first mention through her delightful portrayal as one of the Dianas, filled with the character’s charm as well as her signature artistic sass. Furthermore, Courtney Act and Keala Settle flaunt the strongest vocals in the company in the roles of the Princess and Queen, respectively — though the fact that Keala’s contribution is so shamelessly unexploited (roughly two appearances in the entire show) should have sent someone to the gallows. The highest praise goes to Noel Sullivan as Charles, boasting an infectious comedy bone through a hysterical impersonation, which, though not always immaculate, skillfully encapsulates the personage’s spirit (cough).

Featuring a few camilla-onic performances while playing to the likes of every Tom, Will, and Harry in the homo-verse, The Diana Mixtape spares no expense at building a raucous eulogy to the memory of an icon. Yet, its hasty approach and inability to burrow beyond its glittery surface limit the show to a good but not extraordinary option to spence your money in. With a sound structure already in place, the piece just needs a heart to let its journey palpitate. There are no more issues to mark legitimately.

All pictures credit to Harry Elletson.

The Diana Mixtape plays at The Outernet London until 10 August, followed by Salford’s The Lowry from 19 to 21 August. Tickets for both runs are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara