Writer: David Hoyle
Reviewer: Ruby Isla Cera Marle
Glittering skirt, clashing prints, a necklace made of pencils, tatty heels complete with knee-high football socks all offset by clownish makeup applied with a trowel – there’s no mistaking David Hoyle’s inimitable style. Part cabaret act, part drag and all round dazzling starlet, Hoyle holds the captive audience in the palm of his hand (complete with badly painted fingernails). As he addresses the “Ladies, gentleman and those of you clever enough to transcend gender.” The first five to seven minute involves Hoyle roaming the Spigletent to tell various members of his audience just how fabulous who thinks they look. Clearly at his happiest when improvising, Hoyle barely thinks twice before answering an audience member’s ringing phone.
Hoyle’s opinionated – we are treated to rants on the misuse of tax money and also his musing’s on politics, homophobia and his abhorrent disgust towards the lower middle classes. None of these segments last too long, and in-keeping of his own mantra of keeping things frothy, he diffuses any potentially controversial topics by bursting into song.
It won’t surprise you to learn that Hoyle doesn’t simply take to the stage and sing, he would rather also do this in an avant-garde manner. For instance, Maybe This Time from Cabaret is performed to sounds of an MRI scanner. Hoyle belts out numbers in the style of a self-assured crooner with the sass of all of the great divas.
Hoyle is the epitome of an artist in every sense of the word. Showcased by the speed painting he does of two girls from the audience, as he promises to immortalise them on the canvas. Some people were born to be on the stage, Hoyle is one of these people. Charismatic, talented and spirited. Nothing is ever understated or subdued about Hoyle. He glistens, he rants and most importantly he entertains.
Reviewed on 19 May 2016 | Image: Contributed