Miss Saigon is an utter spectacle to see unfold on stage, packed with jaw-dropping set-pieces and an unforgettable cast.

I last saw Jack Kane perform two years ago, as a support act in a tiny loft above a pub in Bristol. I recall finding his set melodic and powerful (“Rather Be Lonely” has been on my playlist ever since), but constantly frustrated at an ungrateful audience talking over the whole performance. So now, seeing a much-welcome surprise in Kane playing Chris, the leading man in the touring production of Miss Saigon, currently making its home at Mayflower Theatre, is a delight to see.

But Chris Kane is just one of many outstanding, powerhouse performances that bolster the sprawling epic musical set against the backdrop of the Vietnam War and beyond. Julianne Pundan is Kim, a young Vietnamese woman who survived the horrors of war after her village was burned; she works as a bargirl while betrothed to a man she doesn’t love, but she quickly finds love during her chance meeting with Chris. Pundan is an exceptional debut performance, the centrepiece of the moving chessboard, whose raw emotion wrecks the audience throughout the whole runtime — while Kim is written as an innocent, naive girl, Pundan’s performance unfurls some layers, and suggests a more complex core, especially once it no longer becomes just about her survival.

That said, while Pundan and Kane are phenomenal performances, I felt their chemistry was a little off, perhaps because the two didn't actually share many scenes together. Their devotion stems from the back of instant “love-at-first-sight”, already a dangerous start, and from there, there’s not much else to chew on. There are many songs of them serenading the audience with how much they love the other, but fewer that actually convince us. 

I appreciate that there always needs to be a suspension of disbelief, and I was not expecting to see ‘three coffee dates and a talk about labels’, but some expansion on what they see in each other would have been nice. I even thought in Act One that there would be some revelation that one side was not being entirely honest about their motives for this relationship, but unfortunately, any subtext I tried to create there remained offstage and in my mind.

As I have been told is the case in many Miss Saigon productions: the standout is The Engineer. Seann Miley Moore is one-of-a-kind, a roiling coil of energy and passions, making a wholly devious and cruel character embody with a charm and likeability despite the actions perpetuated. Their ability to rouse audience participation from a tired audience on a rainy Wednesday evening is entirely commendable, and the way they do it without coming across as cheap or tacky is nothing short of genius. Moore reprises the whole from previous worldwide tours, and lighting up Mayflower Theatre’s stage, and it is easy to see why. 

Their penultimate song, The American Dream, is full of American memorabilia, making it feel like stepping into a souvenir store. Of course, with recent political events in the States, it all rings hollow as a reminder that this so-called American Dream is all too easy to turn into a nightmare. We see many of the Vietnamese characters so desperate for a life away from the warzone they inhabit that we know can be replicated so easily.

There are some things to be said about how the representation of the Asian characters can still be considered problematic, and despite changes to the book, the white saviourness of it all cannot be entirely ignored. Still, reading up on the problematic casting history of the production, and it’s a nice reminder of how far we’ve come that whitewashing casting is no longer accepted, and that Asian and queer performers are given the roles so often denied to them: something that needs to become industry standard across all forms of media.

Miss Saigon is an utter spectacle to see unfold on stage, packed with jaw-dropping set-pieces and an unforgettable cast. The helicopter scene is, of course, famous for its wow factor, and it's maintained in this production; the symbolism of hovering over the panicked throngs of the Vietnamese people desperate to flee their country as the American GIs are lifted up above the stage is not lost on me. This is one production I utterly adored, and a reminder that the large-scale musical epics are not lost in this era of theatre. Run, don’t walk.

Miss Saigon plays at Mayflower Theatre until the 7th of February. You can book tickets here: https://www.mayflower.org.uk/whats-on/miss-saigon-2026/.