Director: Ian Talbot
In a buttock-hugging, glitter-fest of gold and silver lamé, Round The Horn homage of all things once innocently Gay/Trans/Drag Queen quirky – look out! The Immac’d and slap conception, antipodean preening peacocks of 80s Disco-strut pout are back. The 1994 movie? Like, so duh!
A Kylie-phile, disparate cohort of three identity-confused, kitschy, kinky, occasionally bitchy sirens are on a trans-Nullarbor desert road-trip – rehearsing for that one last-time reunion gig at the fabled Alice Springs Disco gig.
The commonality of road-trip narratives is with the characters running away from as much as running towards. For Tick/Mitzi (Edwin Ray) it’s his/her coming to terms with his gender ambiguity and the responsibilities of marriage and fatherhood, a small detail he hasn’t so far shared with the waspish-tongued, Bernadette, an outstanding, husky, dusty voiced, seen-it-all-before Miles Western. His/her pursuit of eternal carnal pleasures equally being compromised by the not far behind creaking wheels of Time’s winged chariot laden with crows’-feet wrinkles. And sweet vain, body-glorious Adam/Felicia (Nick Hayes)? Think but of Baldrick with a drastic make-over providing the supporting rolê foil.
The ubiquitous Queen Priscilla is their ramshackle road-home tour bus. Think Cliff, dear wonderful departed Una and the 60s Shadows on their Summer Holiday London Transport Roadmaster – actually – best not. Nevertheless, the Magical Mystery Tour/road-trip trope connection is made.
Eschewing the 50s/60s Soho-set polari Gay slang, the dialogue is body-lotion svelte muscularly paced with barbed-wire bitch-banter and machine-gun lacerating, orifice-orientated, innuendo ripostes – all done in the worst possible taste.
And so these new-rage alt.panto dames-with-no-shame stiletto stumble across the outback sands with, err, gay abandon, coming across (nothing to see there!) all manner of folk both kind and ‘faggot’ baiting Neanderthal, countered with serendipitous, in Bern’s case, possibly life-changing romance.
Sadly, the incident with the ‘Aboriginal’ tourist guide, exacerbated by the denouement setting on Uluru (Ayers Rock) where one of intrepid trio comment that, ‘They should’ve installed a stair-lift!’ demonstrates a crass disregard for the indigenous people’s veneration of the site. Inevitably, in such an outrageously Down-Under, over-the-top camp fantasia, there is little room for the mention of AIDS
Disclaimer – The Reviews Hub strongly advises patrons attending this show not to pre-digest any psychotropic substances beforehand – it’s utterly unnecessary: this Priscilla-Bus Buzz road trip is about to blow your mind. Set transitions and costume changes whizz by in a delirious blink of an eye as though a disco glitter-ball was on supercharged spin.
Anonymous credits must go to set-design, stage-managers and Olympian-paced backstage crew. The band, sadly hidden in the Pits, pump up the volume recreating those 80’s disco classics with raucous panache with hats-off to Musical Director/keyboards, Richard Atkinson.
Saving the best until last – what of those must mention alt.Canova sculpted, curvaceous singing Divas beauties? (Claudia Kariuki, Aiesha Pease, Rosie Glossop). Seemingly shaped from molten marble, they sashay sing and sway with authoritative punch and jubilant delight lending further depth and tone to the principles’ and ensemble’s vocal demands.
It’s all an utterly must-see giddy guaranteed, two-hour indulgence in Danny La Rue up yer didgeridoo, ‘Oh, Matron!’ hedonistic, sin full-on song-and-dance visual wonderfest.
Runs until 4 September 2021 and touring
The Reviews Hub Score
A Hedonistic Wonderfest
