A large European mirror tent has landed on a patch of ground – was it the public car park? – next to the National Theatre. One of the acts on the bill, Mooky Cornish, declares that it’s high time a Canadian like her brought a little culture to the South Bank…
The only things missing, really, are live music, animals and a proper compère, though scissor-swallowing, tongue-piercing Miss Behave in a tight yellow PVC dress mingles sportively with the customers.
The line-up will change every night, and the show seems a good option for office parties as winter draws on. You’ll probably need that good company and light relief after watching Norwegian contortionist Captain Frodo squeeze his double-jointed limbs through a tennis racket.
The English Gentlemen (a pair of Aussies) reprise their balancing act in pin-striped suits and Union Jack boxers, but now develop their muscleman turn in different directions: one as Gene Kelly dancin’ (not singin’) in the rain, and doin’ the vertical splits on a lamppost, the other rising on four piled high chairs as a Japanese geisha with a waxed torso.
I loved Mooky as a 1987 European magic convention winner flopping hilariously around the stage, slurping vodka, and “Bath Boy” David O’Mer splashing the front rows in his aerial ballet that is the wettest bondage trapeze act in town. And the artistry of Cabaret Decadanse from Montreal – Serge Deslauriers and Enock Turcotte gradually inhabiting the divas they manipulate – remains an unalloyed treat.
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