“Monkey’s volcanic energy in particular helped to keep engagement at a maximum”
Brat Kids Carnival is certainly not lacking in atmosphere – in a gorgeous circus-tent-esque structure in the midst of all the Christmas stalls in Leicester Square, it’s easy to get swept up in the spirit of the festivities. And although the show’s sizzling energy means it never dampens the mood, it also doesn’t always match the expectations that its surrounding grotto creates.
Brat Kids Carnival establishes Monkey (played, incidentally, by American entertainer Mr Monkey) as the MC of the proceedings, with assistance from Vicky Falconer Pritchard as the Party Panda. Even before the show starts, they interact with the audience and play a game of cat and mouse around the space; they made for an endearing pair, and Monkey’s volcanic energy in particular helped to keep engagement at a maximum. The cast is rounded out by Luke Hubbard, Crystal Stacey, and Rowan Thomas who make up the various circus acts that take place.
Unfortunately, not all of acts feel fully developed. The first is a giant purple alien singing, which while initially entertaining, never feels like it expands on its premise, and as a result the attention of the audience noticeably waned during the latter half of the act. This was not an uncommon theme, and also occurred chiefly in a hula-hooping act. Thankfully, Monkey and Party Panda’s interludes help to perk up the audience, with one segment where a child had to throw a piece of banana into Monkey’s mouth proving to be a comic goldmine.
A number of acts were also hugely entertaining – Hubbard and Thomas as a pair of flamingos trying to outdo each other was immense fun, as the act was developed beyond just a showcase of skills into a story, with reams of playfulness and character. This also stood out due to being the only double act in the show – it would’ve been great to have seen more instances where the cast interacted in the acts, and to allow mini-narratives to organically grow in this way.
Brat Kids Carnival’s design is joyous – backlighting the performers as they arrive on stage provides a sense of grandeur, which is only exacerbated by the pulsating music and magnificent costumes. It’s a shame that the content of the acts feels largely undercooked, as every other aspect is primed for top-quality family fun.
“These boys from Oz are indeed gorgeous, but they could raise the roof if they got their freak on!”
There was a glittery, glitzy, festive buzz in the Leicester Square Spiegeltent last night. Drinks were flowing and people were clearly out to welcome these ‘seriously gorgeous guys from Oz’ and have a good time. We were promised ‘world circus skills, drop dead gorgeous drag, raucous comedy and trademark punkish swagger’ and the audience appetite was keen.
Briefs: Close Encounters opens with a couple of cute and cheeky dance routines, drawing on and camping up old-school twenties and thirties burlesque traditions – top-hatted gents and chorus girls with flirtatious palm fronds – before we are officially welcomed by the fabulous Shivannah, our emcee for the evening. She is a terrific hostess – with the gorgeous combination of warmth, sass and glamour that characterises the best drag – and her improvised interludes provide some of the highlights of the show. Briefs’ overall conceit (reminiscent of Parliament-Funkadelic’s futuristic mothership) is a little chaotic – ‘someone get these guys a dramaturg’ is one of Shivannah’s best asides – but it really doesn’t matter, given the playful nature of the whole event.
That said, a little tightening-up of the mechanics wouldn’t go amiss. The transitions between acts are often unnecessarily clumsy, and there are too many empty-stage moments, which slow down the pace of the evening, particularly in the first half. Part of the fun of this type of show is that the acts come fast and furious, and there should be a slightly frenetic quality to proceedings for the audience to become caught up in. This momentum starts to build in the second half, post-interval, but should have been there from the get-go. It’s true to say, however, that the performers have only had a few days to get a feel for their audience, and things will almost certainly become faster, bigger, bolder and more raucous as time goes on.
The skill and athleticism of the acrobatics – special mention here to some awesome aerial work from Thomas Worrell – is a delight throughout, and, thanks to some splendidly cheeky costume design, there is plenty of sizzle and sauce to please the punters. The ‘magic’ routine was decidedly under par however, and the evening is full of moments that aren’t pushed to their full potential. Shivannah tells us of Briefs’ origins in a little club in Brisbane ten years ago, and it often feels as if the constraints of a small venue and a more parochial crowd -‘the West End of Brisbane is an industrial estate, not the West End of London’ – are still in place. The queerest performance of the night came from Harry Clayton-Wright, who brought a welcome whiff of mild anarchy to proceedings, and there was also a slight edge of danger to Dale Woodbridge-Brown’s Wonderland-inspired rabbit, but all-in-all, despite the dressing, Briefs feels rather safe and old-fashioned.
Captain Kidd performs his LED hula-hoop routine, towards the end of the show, to Die Antwoord’s tune ‘I fink u freeky’:
Sexy boys
Fancy boys
Playboys
Bad boys
I fink u freeky and I like you a lot.
These boys from Oz are indeed gorgeous, but they could raise the roof if they got their freak on!
