The literal translation of ‘La Clique’ from the French describes a group of people who are “friendly with each other but exclude others”. Tip number one: pay absolutely no attention to that definition when attending “La Clique”, the alternative cabaret-come-circus show at the Spiegeltent in Leicester Square. Expect the complete opposite. The show couldn’t be more inclusive if it tried. Tip number two: get there early if you want to secure a front row seat. Provided, that is, you like the idea of being soaked by the foamy bath water of a near-naked Burlesque songbird, or straddled by a highly toned aerialist in nothing but sequined trunks enjoying his moment of post-crucifixion passion. (Tip number three: if this doesn’t sound like your thing then either; a) stop reading now or b) make it your thing – you don’t know what you’re missing).
Born at the Edinburgh Festival back in 2004, the Olivier award-winning “La Clique” created its own genre with its mix of circus, cabaret, music and mayhem; topped with irreverence, sexiness and mind-blowing thrills. It has since travelled the world with its extended family of performers that represent the cream of the cabaret and circus scene. Wandering into the Spiegeltent in Leicester Square is like straying into an alternative wonderland, away from the tourists. An intimate world. A club in which you belong, and the penny drops. “La Clique” is faithful to its definition. It is the outside world that is excluded, and you are immersed within, and embraced by, this eccentric family.
There appears to be nobody in charge. No MC. Each performer is calling the shots. Miss Jolie Papillon appears like magic. The ‘Bird of Oceana’, with aquamarine feathers not quite concealing the climax of her exotic routine. Later returning with her bathtub burlesque (see above). A grotesque hospital patient transforms into the beauty that is aerialist Katharine Arnold. This show is not just about technique and virtuosic skill. It is performance art. Theatre. Spectacle. Arnold returns to the ring with Hugo Desmarais with a unique and exquisite display of passion and synchronicity, suspended high above the crowd, defying gravity with the ultimate wickedness.
Ashley Stroud, on the surface, has fewer tricks up her sleeve. The magic lies in the beauty – of body and soul. And voice. Mikael Bres takes pole dancing to another level, merging acrobatics, dance, drama and his mastery of the Chinese Pole. Comic relief comes from Sam Goodburn with his unicycle and slapstick reverse striptease. (Tip number four: avoid the front row if you’re at all fussy about where a biscuit has been before you eat it). Tara Boom is the popcorn seller from Hell – or Heaven, depending on your penchants. An act that should come with every Government health warning imaginable.
Whether these are highlights or whether I’ve managed to cover the whole line up is irrelevant. Every moment is a highlight. A revolution and a revelation. A place where you can leave your troubles outside. In the Spiegeltent life is beautiful. Sensuous, sensual and sexual. Thrilling and awe-inspiring. And unpredictable, sometimes dangerous. You smile, gape and laugh in equal measure. Entertainment is taken to the edge. And it takes you with it. Unmissable. (Tip number five: see tip number three – part b).
“Perfectly gaudy, camp, hilarious, breath-taking, and an absolute tonic for this mess of a year we’re all having”
What I wouldn’t give to sit in on the Underbelly’s La Clique audition process. “Next up we’ve got a pink-mulleted saxophonist with a very strong pelvic thrust, after that a laderhosen-loving hoola hooper, and before lunch let’s try and squeeze in the burlesque act who takes her clothes off inside a giant balloon.”
Except of course some of these acts have been performing with La Clique for years, so the audition is probably more like a phone call to a family member to see if they’re coming home for Christmas. And what a family! You’ve got a couple of acrobats, an aerialist, a fire-breathing sword swallower to name only a few, all accompanied by a stellar live band, including our pink-mulleted saxophonist, Leo P.
Creative producer and director David Bates is an expert curator, combining brute skill with heaps of whimsy and showmanship. Each act marries a fairly classic circus skill with rock n’ roll energy and lashings of good humour. The Skating Willers III, for example, are an acrobatic roller-skating duo, spinning around on a terrifyingly small platform, Steph attaching herself with increasing jeopardy around Pierre’s neck as she twists herself into various pretzel-like shapes. They begin with Pierre standing with the band singing Michael Bublé’s cover of ‘Feeling Good’- a double dose of crooning cheese. But Steph struts on stage in the middle of the song in a barely-there checked skirt and suspenders, takes the mic and says, “Fuck Bublé”, collecting Pierre and gliding down on their skates to the front of the stage for a far more entertaining use of his skills. It’s irreverent and cheeky, and yet still showing incredible mastery and prowess. And that’s pretty much how it goes for the evening- we’re laughing, whooping, gasping and gaping in equal measure for two solid hours.
Our host for the evening, Bernie Dieter, is suitably fabulous, making multiple outrageous costume changes, from a gold shimmering jumpsuit, spiked shoulder pads, gold curtain tassels and silver sequined stiletto boots, to an oversized faux fur coat covered in “furry nipple tassels, or tiny furry penises”, she’s not sure which. She is the thread that ties the acts together, adding to that genuinely familial feel which makes this show particularly special. All the acts are also each other’s stage hands, throwing props on stage and hiking up the rigging by hand when someone needs to fly.
A surprising number of acts turn into quasi-strip shows, so, like, don’t bring your kids. But otherwise, I can’t think what else you could possibly require from a Christmas show. Perfectly gaudy, camp, hilarious, breath-taking, and an absolute tonic for this mess of a year we’re all having.
