Music by Claude-Michel Schönberg

Lyrics by Richard Maltby Jr. and Alain Boublil

Directed by Jean-Pierre van der Spuy

Review by Olivia Burns

Glasgow – 2026 tickets

Boublil and Schönberg’s musical returns in ALL of its glory in a visual and audio spectacle. Mackintosh’s revival has nurtured a theatrical buffet of skill, talent, consideration and sensitivity where each number excels even further than the success of the previous.

Seann Miley Moore’s Engineer is ingeniously crafted. The challenge of the engineer lies in the incongruity between their role as the tonal barometer for the entire show and yet at the same time being a solo player, only having themselves to bounce off from. Moore accepts this challenge and steps on its puny head with ease, charisma, skill, and undeniable show-stopping force. Despite starting off excellent, Moore’s performance somehow continues to increase in wonder exponentially as the show progresses. Their performance of The American Dream is genuinely jaw-dropping and expertly navigated, skilfully timing the display of absolute power from drawn-back mischief to inhibit a dumbfounding performance of total release and fulfilment.

Julianne Pundan’s Kim similarly masters the demands of her role as the narrative’s focaliser, and handle’s the scrutiny of spotlight with angelic brightness and controlled sweetness. Like the Engineer, Kim’s narrative position as a self-determined (mostly) solo player introduces a significant challenge to the role. And yet, Pundan manages to pull off the miraculous feat which is cultivating the climax of both acts in solo songs. Pundan’s I’d Give My Life For You is maybe the best I’ve ever heard, blending sweetness and determination in beautiful coalescence that somehow justifiably ends the first act of the spectacle show in a fairly minimalistic, emotion-driven solo.

The entire show is cohesive in its direction of performance and design, which are all executed to maximal success. JP van der Spuy’s direction is masterfully mobilised by Andrew D Edward’s set/costume, and Bruno Poet’s lighting designs. Whilst absolutely set and based in Vietnam, pivotal moments of dream-like projections, timeless costuming and shadow play behind gauze curtains serve as beautiful reminders that Miss Saigon is universal in its human themes. Every storyline is driven in the backdrop of the consequences of war and exploitation, and, despite its potentially more-than-ideal controversy in the past, this production of Miss Saigon is sensitive, careful, and intensely thoughtful to its core.

It would indeed be a shame to go without mentioning the success of resident choreographer Jasmin Colangelo, whose work does a mesmerising job of painting moving shapes on stage with human brushes. The tension between tight, militaristic lines, against moments of fluid sensuality throughout the show is palpably felt. Of course, the production’s excellent ensemble is central to all areas of audience reception, but, at least in this case, the meticulousness of Miss Saigon’s cast is a critical vessel in realising what is already a stellar production. Miss Saigon has always been burgeoning success and is constantly in conversations of revivals. Indeed, this touring production makes an excellent case for the continued relevance and the necessity for its lingering popularity.

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