Michael Harrison in association with Cameron Mackintosh presents the spectacular new production of MISS SAIGON as Boublil and Schönberg’s legendary musical is reborn.

By Bracken Jelier

At 48, I am part of the generation who first saw Miss Saigon when it was the show - the epic, talked-about, must-see production drawing crowds to London’s West End. I remember the anticipation, the scale, the music that seemed to wrap itself around your heart.

Last night at Theatre Royal Plymouth, I returned to it but this time with my 22-year-old daughter, who had never seen it before. Watching her experience it for the first time was almost as powerful as seeing it anew myself.

Of course, I went in fully aware of the story; its roots in Madame Butterfly, its devastating trajectory, its setting against the backdrop of the Vietnam War. I’ll admit I carried a small fear: could a revived touring production ever live up to the spectacle I remembered? Would it feel diminished by comparison?

Needless to say, I needn’t have worried.

If anything, this production feels grittier. The horrors of war, displacement, desperation, poverty, and exploitation seem sharper now. Perhaps that’s life experience speaking. The central love story between an American GI (played by Jack Kane) and a young Vietnamese woman, Kim (played by Julianne Pundan), unfolds amid chaos, and the tension between love and brutality, hope and abandonment, wealth and famine feels painfully real. Because it is. These stories are not fantasy; they are rooted in lived history.

There are moments etched into theatrical memory. For my generation, the descending helicopter remains legendary…that thunderous, goosebump-inducing spectacle of sound and light. Touring realities mean it’s necessarily scaled back, and I’ll confess to a flicker of disappointment that my daughter didn’t witness that jaw-dropping original staging. But she didn’t know what was ‘missing’. For her, the moment still landed; powerful, immersive, shocking. The theatre shook with it.

The emotional arc remains unchanged and merciless. Without offering spoilers, the tragedy still devastates. I found myself in tears just as I had decades ago. Some endings, no matter how much we wish otherwise, must remain as they are.

What felt refreshingly updated was the character of The Engineer. Still sleazy, still morally slippery, but this time leaning further into flamboyance and humour. There were shades of panto villain in his swagger, and the American flag ballgown sequence had the audience roaring with laughter before erupting into applause. It’s a tonal tightrope -comic relief amid catastrophe - but it works.

Musically, the score remains extraordinary. I had to physically stop myself from singing along to songs that are stitched into my memory. My daughter, astonishingly, told me she hadn’t heard any of them before and yet she was completely entranced. A couple of narrative moments needed quiet explanation (a flashback slipped past her), but otherwise she was absorbed throughout.

The performance of Julianne Pundan as Kim was remarkable. Her vocal range soared with crystal-clear purity, carrying both strength and fragility. At times it was almost unbearably moving. And as a mother to a child of the same age, watching young Tam (played by 5 year old Samantha Reese Camiguing) step onto that stage added an extra layer of poignancy. What a little star! Holding her own in a story so emotionally charged.

Ultimately, Miss Saigon still does what great theatre should do: it stirs, unsettles, moves and lingers. It bridges generations. It reminds us that epic storytelling can live comfortably in our own amazing city, not just in the capital.

If you can get a ticket, go! Whether it’s your first time or your return visit decades later, this is an experience that deserves to be felt - and perhaps, like me, shared with the next generation.

Miss Saigon plays at Theatre Royal Plymouth from 19 Feb–28 Feb 2026.

Captioned – Thu 19 Feb 2026, 7.30pm

BSL Interpreted – Fri 20 Feb 2026, 7.30pm

Audio Described (w/ Touch Tour 12.30pm, please contact Box Office to book) – Sat 21 Feb 2026, 2.30pm