Cabaret Roulette: Pleasure (RVT)
Royal Vauxhall Tavern, 13th July, 2016
(Disclaimer: poorly written notes are hard to decipher a month after an event. Excuses aside, let’s get on with the show. Oh, and if you were there, then this might just trigger some memories. I hope it’s a fair representation)
It’s a humid, sweaty night in London. Smouldering, you might say. Steamy, perhaps.
Hot and steamy.
Like a big rubber bottom.
I think that’s just about the right description for it. Especially with such a fun and gorgeous crowd of bawdy loving misfits.
So onward into the glory of the show…
The steaminess starts with a little kiss, a subtle curved hand around the bottom, and then a little bit of seduction…
JOE MOROSE wanders onto the stage wearing shades and only God-knows-what-the-hell to the tune of “Sex and drugs and rock & roll”
“I’m familiar with both as a concept,” says Joe.
LOU SAFIRE wanders around deviously in the background trying to be helpful, but only in part. But that’s a good thing. Why waste such beauty on sundry tasks like keeping a stage free and clear of hazards and dust.
Let’s get onto the first act of the night…
FRANK SANAZI … the second man of the evening strolling onto the stage wearing only-God-Knows-what-the-hell.
It’s a robe, dummy.
A robe, that’s it.
Frank’s going for the Hugh Hefner (is he ACTUALLY STILL ALIVE?!) look. By that we mean, a robe, fuck all else, and a couple of women on the side. Do you think there’s a stunt cock down there? With Hugh, I mean, not Frank. I digress.
“A man’s best friend is his animal friend, with his favourite musical number,” says Frank.
So Frank’s a charming man and he sings absolutely lusciously (I just can’t remember what he was singing! Apologies, Frank, apologies.)
And he’s even got a sheep and a lady in tow.
A lady with…
A RIDING CROP!
It’s like Catwoman bitch-slapping Batman.
“I’m just going to get fluent tonight,” says Frank.
And with that, he’s gone. So soon?
Yup. Lady friend, sheep and all, he’s gone.
WHOOPS and CHEERS from the crowd.
Joe Morose wanders back on: PUNS. PUNS. PUNS.
PUNS. PUNS. PUNS.
PUNS. PUNS. PUNS.
The dude just needs some cymbal crashes.
Who is up next?
And steamily sexiful.
Really, really smart.
Get. A. Load. Of. This. Act.
Feathers. Glitz. Beautiful lips.
Naughty knickers, cheeky underwear.
Orgasms, writhing around, raunchy dancing…
Up pops a dummy in the mouth, a BIG bottle of baby oil…
Cue lots and lots of mayhem involving dummies, baby oil and everything else.
AND I DO MEAN…
LOTS AND LOTS OF MAYHEM!
Gallons of mayhem.
Mayhemy. You might say.
Just when you think it couldn’t go any further in mayhemy mayhem..
A PAIR OF MASSIVE LIPS are revealed … and attached to Evelyn’s face.
This is like something Grace Jones would do.
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP! … from the crowd.
How fucking awesome was that act?
And how can we even top that performance?
I’m not so sure that we can.
But the next act can certainly steal the show…
As she’s proven time and time again.
DRUM ROLL PLEASE….
LILLY SNATCHDRAGON comes on looking fun and yummy with a puppet dog – apparently this is Joe Morose’s dog, Bruce.
SAY HELLO BRUCE!
“HELLO!” says Bruce.
Lilly has Milk.
And a striptease.
Lilly’s buxom and devious, delicious and frivolous (we made it on the rhyming he he)
And then Lilly’s off, gone; show stolen and stuffed down her blouse.
WHOOP WHOOP WHOOP!
Somewhere within all this madness we get to see JOE MOROSE riding (not in that sense!) LOU SAFIRE…
But then a little bit of peace breaks out in the crowd. A little bit of silence. A little bit of mystery and a little bit of respect..
LASANA SHABAZZ wanders through the crowd: big afro, male corset, a cheeky little striptease to start off the performance.
BUT..on stage it all becomes so different. Lasana takes things off in another direction.
He changes into dorky/regular clothes. He puts on a rucksack, and trots to the front of the stage. Opening the bag he begins to fish around within the papers. Reading from the notes, he swims into poetry on love and sex. Good, bad, unpleasant, harsh…
“There’s no place like home … there’s no place like home…”
“…there’s no place like home…”
All is quiet until a
BIG ROUND OF APPLAUSE.
JOE MOROSE arrives back on stage (and now we’re back to seduction). Joe has a big bag of sweets. Maoam stripes to be exact. Now who is he teasing and seducing with said sweets?
A member of the crowd.
Well he has been ranting about a dry run.
Nothing has changed since Victorian times.
Entertainers can still seduce and dazzle the audience with shiny things and candy.
Speaking of candy…
TRACEY COLLINS as AUDREY HEARTBURN!
Black dress. Smeared makeup. Teary eyed and tipsy.
“I’ve heard this is where the boys are,” says Audrey (we’ll call her Audrey) lusting after any man with a pulse.
“I’ve been away with a boy…but he was nothing but a rat!”
“Any gentlemen in the room want to…”
“I need something satisfying…”
“I’ve heard this is where the boys are…”
“But I can’t see any … I’ll go and have a look…”
Audrey wanders deep into the crowd, looking, hunting, carousing…
“What is your name, sir?”
“Oh, you’ll do…”
“Chase me…chase me…”
“Tell me your name sweet prince…”
Audrey’s on the floor with a fella.
It’s best we fade out now…
JOE wanders back onto the stage: he’s holding a Teddy bear and wearing a stinky old dressing gown.
But how do we know that it smells? Is it really that obvious? Is he odious and odourous?
“I’ve had this dressing gown for years…and I don’t think I’ve ever washed it,” says Joe.
“I wish I hadn’t sniffed that…”
So Lou Safire appears all dolled up and stealing the show: shiny dress, big breasts, a decadent, sinister, pleasurable delight. Pushing his way in front of Joe, come on eyes and suggestions.
But back and forth and then back to…
Joe: “Manipulating a bear … not the first time I’ve done that in this room!”
And now Joe is sitting on a speaker while someone makes noises into the microphone to create vibrations for his satisfaction…
“Can you do that again…”
So. Who. Is. Up. Next.
I, we, they, us all wonder…
Tiffany slinks through the crowd – a bit of classic burlesque this evening. This show really does cover all grounds.
Tiffany: wonderful kinks and wiggles.
Tiffany: exultant winks and giggles.
(as Anna Lou Larkin would say)
There’s something supernatural about this one. Pleasure by someone beyond the grave? How gothic. In one sense, how incredibly decadent.
Kiki pulls out a GIANT COPY OF THE KAMA SUTRA.
(the copy is as big as the emphasis of the text suggests)
It’s a BIG BOOK!
Kiki’s full of mystery this evening. What is he hiding?
Holding the book up with an unseen erection, a ghost of a dead wife/husband and or sweetheart (?) haunts him, jerks him off…
…from the speakers blasts “Feeling Good” by Nina Simone.
“I’m feeling good…”
Kiki: spilling ashes on the floor…Joe helping him trying to collect them up…
But obviously failing…
“I’m feeling good…”
This is mad.
“I’m feeling good…”
Lou Safire wanders on stage to clean up the remnants…
(it took a while to clear up the stage!)
And with the stage now free of hazards, trip ups and all other flotsam and jetsam, we’re now indulged with the final act of the show.
Sadie wanders onto the stage looking beautiful in a huge elegant dress.
Very beautiful indeed.
The dress is only one part of the beauty.
Because that voice!
Sadie begins to sing…
“Stand up for love”
But it’s not just Sadie singing this evening…
Vivacity Bliss takes on a little bit…and Lilly Snatchdragon, too.
THIS IS HUGE!
All three singing at once…
“Stand up for life…”
IT’S A GIANT BIG DOSE OF LOVE…
“Stand up for love…”
This final act is…
You might seven say a simple definition of…
It was interesting how the show started with a little seed and then ended with a giant epic performance with multiple singing voices. The whole night had a feeling of life and orgasm and ecstasy. A twisting, turning, look at PLEASURE … for the most part … carnal knowledge. Pretty wonderful. I hope we’ve done it a small amount of justice.
A lot of these neo or alternative burlesque and cabaret shows are often compared to David Lynch movies, which is fairly true in some cases. But this show felt like something by Ken Russell. I wonder if this is what life is like for a multicoloured paintball being fired onto a naked body. Raw, explosive, coloured, naked, fluid, bruised, expressive.
Paintball existentialism. I haven’t heard of that before.
You can view a gallery of the event on the Cabaret Roulette Facebook page.