If ever there was any doubt of the need for a Benny Hill Perpetual Trophy for Excellence in Comedic Burlesque, then the cast of Sex Pest have made the convincing argument.

Heaven knows there can be a real risk of burlesque taking itself too seriously, especially with a number of “I’m a doyen in musical theatre, darling” reviewers waltzing into Fringe these days making value judgments about burlesque like it was a Gilbert & Sullivan production. We can only be thankful that cantilever productions exist to remind us that funny is sexy too – whether that be gross out funny or thought provoking funny.

Tonight’s performance kicked off with the whole cast prowling the stage like a groucho-marxesque raincoat pervert brigade, complete with novelty liquorice allsorts and accosting a not-so-innocent looking young lady sporting a nasty set of vagina dentata.

Honey B Goode was a stunning figure wrapped in diamanté brilliance and glorious to behold as she seductively unveiled herself shifting effortlessly between curiously coy & confident before indulging in some amusing aquatic exploits worthy of the flatulent 5 year old in us all. A delightful juxtaposition of old world style and low brow humour!

Lallah L’amore proved that every 1950’s housewife enjoys nothing more than having a man inside – at least in terms of her own latent masculinity as a jar of vegemite and a stick of mettwurst proved. Excellent performance.

We were then treated to what I can only describe as a riotous rollercoaster vaudevillian epic through love, lust and infidelity featuring acrobatic techno-sex, hot tangos and more bananas than you can poke a monkey’s bum at.

It was innuendo ahoy with the Gift Box girls in their sexy synchronised go-go extravaganza. Ms Merrill Beth Nisker may have wanted to “Impeach My Bush”, but can I say these girls made their own political statement to Tony Abbott by “Boxing the Jesuit”.

Peachey Dream’s “Oh Mother” presented herself all chiffon and starry eyed while nursing a young bub, heavily pregnant in anticipation of the second on the way. In another wonderful example of “so so wrong but oh so right”, her calm demeanor degenerated into a hot crumping-through-the-contractions dance routine in the deliciously trashiest of leopard print…it only spirals down from there folks, but a happy downward spiral at that.

What followed was a cha-cha charming red sequined sparkling assault, an erotic in your face routine of dance and depravity laden social commentary on censorship, Betty Blood’s merkin fixed tight and her passion well and truly popped by the end.

Lastly Becky Lou proved to be a sexy little pest indeed, in colourful Blue Bottle Blowfly attire (scientifically known as Calliphora vomitoria. Delightful, huh? See - burlesque is nothing if not educational). Poised and perfect, she was soon joined by four buzzing accomplices to a frantic jungle jazz number, where I witnessed my first ever, and maybe the last, fly blown turd conga line.

I need to mention the Pest Control stage hands (including Ms Luna Eclipse), more than just clean-up crew - they were an essential glue that held the acts together, or maybe lubricant to keep things moving? Whatever.

Seriously good fun.  Sex Pest is on for more two nights, Fri 16 March and Sat 17 March at the Nexus Theatre, Lion Arts Centre at 11pm.

It was a delight to see the thoroughly undead Weimar cabaret transvestite Blue Angel materialise back on Earth again as MC. She got the crowd in mood quickly, and with her opening number of “Cigarettes and Chocolate” she captured a later observation of hers “Maybe it is better to be led by our depraved unconscious”.

Cherry Lush was ripe and ready with cabaret standard ‘Mein Herr’ – but rather than have it stand as a cabaret museum piece it was personalised and woven amongst her own tales of rampant teutonic lust.

The guilty pleasure of hardcore stiletto and leather nazi fashion chic was manifested through an imposing Venus Vamp, who like one of Blue Angels lyrical chocolates (with cigarettes!) slowly shed the hard shell over an adagio 1920’s German piano tune to reveal a silky sensuous centre of pure erotic movement.

I never had considered the possibility of Weimar-styled Noh theatre, but Paloma Negra gave an emotionally raw calisthenic performance that projected an energy disproportionate to the minimalism, all over the aching tunes of ‘Wild Is The Wind’.

This was then followed by Mathias the Libidinous who put on the Ritz and put out in a high energy Boylesque strip tease number, that was just as Dandy as his attire.

A good Cabaret needs a good dose of the funnies, and taut and terrific cross-dressing Boylesque performer Lolita La Tex took it to another level by singing a wonderful filk on “Fever” who scratched that itch with the decidedly filthy “Beaver” that left one reaching for the Canestan.

If Jim Morrison were still alive (besides being a DJ in Ibiza) he would no doubt regularly accompany Blue Angel as she showed the that musical poetry of The Doors was lacking until you introduced tap dancing, on “Been Down So Long”. God Damn indeed.

Showing you can’t keep a good man down, especially first thing in the morning, Mithias the Libidinous was back “Feeling Good” with a scarlett silk sheet bed routine that provided the slower sensuality counterbalance to his earlier energetic manifestation on stage, confirming him a performer with good light and shade in his repertoire.

I don’t doubt for a minute that what Cherry Lush wants, Cherry gets – again she personalised the song of “What Lola Wants”, made it hers (unlike some mimed versions I’ve seen this Fringe…) Combined with a gorgeous burlesque disrobing & tease she provided all the necessary sass & fun in bosom loads.

Music choice, people. Nothing shits me more than a bad burlesque musical selection – but I was filled with awe and respect when Lolita La Tex returned resplendent in a funereal noir fan dance done to Tori Amos’s cover of the Joe Jacksons “Real Men”, it worked on so many levels, one of the stand out performances of the night.

Paloma Negra then gave us an intimate performance with Henri, her trapeze bar, herself adorned in a painfully intricate shibari body harness, becoming as one with her hanging companion. A bonded aerial dance, exposed and somehow intimate and private, that made us as voyeurs to something very introspective and soul felt.

Again I was captured musically by Venus Vamps choice of Einsturzende Nebautens “Silence is Sexy” as an embodiment of neo-Weimar sentiment – the nod to the old cloaked in the new. Adorned in stylish, ubergothic vintage splendour, her Dance of Dementia connected to the emotional anguish and swings of emotion of a mind cycling between a violent cacophony of memories and stillness.

As Blue Angel finished with the Brecht/Weill “Alabama Song” – I decided I could do with a whisky or two. My demands for something cutting edge that met the definitions of “Fringe” performance were sated. Show me the way to the next little dollar indeed, Ms Angel – for I am spent.

Anything Goes will be performed 13 March, 14 March & 15 March 2012 at Fowlers Live, 9pm, $23.00.

Look, this revue is a little late in the piece because I had to think long and hard about what I was going to write in light of other burlesque performances on at the Fringe, and how they compare.

I think we have reached the stage in the Burlesque revival where the stock standard burlesque-cabaret song book is no longer “Fringe” – it is so mainstream it is more Adelaide Cabaret Festival. If I am going to review a burlesque show at Fringe I’m going to apply a different criteria to what I might in another festival. I want, nay, I demand something different to get my attention.

Bedazzled Burlesque was too middle of the road for my tastes. It tried to be naughty at the outset with MC Madam Menage a Trois which unfortunately relied on too many clitoris jokes to which I rapidly became desensitised to and began to rub me the wrong way. At times it seemed like I was watching an old episode on ‘Allo ‘Allo.

The performers underwent numerous name changes in the performance based on character – which I thought was unnecessary and played havoc with my review notes frankly.

The good parts involved a white sequined ‘Marian’ singing a jazzy “Why Don’t You Do Right?” which was sultry & sexy, followed by ‘Carly’ with a cute and snappy bump routine to the tunes of “Big Spender”. Later in the proceedings we had ‘Natalia,’ crop in hand, giving a polished and tight burlesque routine to Madonna’s “Hanky Panky” which I thought was maybe a little too tied to the lyrical content – I would have liked to have seen more interpretative and harmonic movement. Probably the highlight was ‘Sapphire’ strutting to Christine Agiulera’s “Nasty Boy” in the sexiest routine of the night, smouldering and excellent eye contact.

The not-so-good parts was a brass & rockabillty version of “Diamonds are Girls Best Friend” by ‘Marilyn’, which to my mind ramped up the raunch too much and lacked the original Marilyn’s suggestiveness and subtlety. There was a lot of overenthusiastic Americana schtick with a lecherous David doing what I presume was Boylesque to “I’m Too Sexy” which was more like the embarrassing friend dancing drunkenly in a nightclub on the impression it is going to impress the laydeez…. I was left feeling a little empty by ‘Candy’ doing Ertha Kitts “I Want To Be Evil” – that song, sung, mimed or performed to, requires a certain personal projection to be convincing – and unfortunately Candy just looks to ‘nice’ and gentle to fulfil the role of a feline femme fatale man eater.

So there we go.

Maybe I could be more forgiving, but frankly I see other performers jumping the high bar by pushing the boundaries of burlesque/cabaret – and fusing the traditional and contemporary with more conviction. Maybe Bedazzled Burlesque works for corporate function entertainment, but at Fringe, I am left wanting more. Much more.

I have to admit- prior to me walking downstairs into the Zhivago nightclub I held great reservations about what Fetish Burlesque was going to be like. The problem with many emerging troupes trying to present a ‘fresh face’ to burlesque is that in the effort to modernise the tradition either they become some self-induglent avante-garde performance that fails to connect to the audience or they lose all the critical nuance that separates burlesque from ’stripping’.

With no small amount of relief, I think any preconceptions and concerns were comprehensively buried.

If I was going characterise the Fetish Burlesque aesthetic - there is nice mix of Pin Up cross Punkabilly meets Industrial with a healthy nod to Traditional. Ok – eclectic, but it seems to be working for them.

First up on stage was Cookie, who had a devil-may-care attitude to suit her horns and 6 inch stilettos. Rhythmically she was very tight with the music, which tended to show off her technique with some innovative flourishes – the use of old vinyl records for a fan routine was clever. Her second performance in surgical greens eviscerating a male blow up patient of his vital organs definitely swung between erotic & high camp in a wonderful Andy Warhol Flesh For Frankenstein sort of way.

Scarlett Siren showed a definite versatility as she tore up the floor with Pulp Fiction rocking style before a nice transition into some sexy shimmering and Mo-town groove to the tunes of “Preacher Man”. Testify! Her second routine later in the night had electro-swing sensibilities, teases of belly dance even, that really convinced me that she had a well rehearsed sense of ebb & flow matched with the timing of a metronome.

Lady Vixen hammered the horror gorelesque approach as a velvet clad vampiress, lot of hand sweeps and cool menace that brought back memories of my days amongst Sydney goth clubs in the 90’s. Continuing some noir nostalgia, her second act was a murderess post-carnage with MacBethian style and knife play, which while theatric probably highlighted the risk of these routines. I think you can play them two ways - either hamming them up by juxtaposing horror with hilarity, or go completely into character and project the extremity of emotional trauma. But these routines I felt were a little too introverted, and burlesque really demands that demanding high level connection to the audience. The material is there, maybe just a tweak to the executions (hah!).

Dezzie Damned Art Deco Stylin’

The last performer to mention is Dezzie Damned, a heavily inked & elegant Pin Up Girl extraordinaire I’m sure has been stripped off the side of a B-52 Bomber or Lancaster Dambuster, such is the fire power she carries. Bustle-dressed and immaculate elegance, she performed cool controlled jazz-sass moves to “Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend” that slid into the Amphlett anthem of “Touch Myself” as she cranked up the heat. Even when she raunched things up considerably in her second act, in a tight sequin skulled corset Baron Samedi would approve of, replete with ball gag and scourge (with random acts of bibliomantic blasphemy) – something that characterised her style was that it was always unrushed, using slow measured tease and anticipation that ticks all the right boxes for burlesque. I think she has succeeded here in melding the traditional art with contemporary smarts, by no means an easy thing to do I am coming to believe.

Fetish Burlesque have one more performance this Fringe Festival on Thursday 8 March 2012 @ 7.30pm, Zhivago Nightclub, 54 Currie Street, Adelaide. $25.00

Last year’s Adelaide Fringe presented some truly great burlesque alongside some decidedly mediocre efforts that were happy to co-opt the name in order to get punters through the door, but then deliver something so by-the-numbers or off target that made the experience painful.

I admit my bias up front though -  I like my burlesque either traditional, or innovative, but have come to dread the maudlin’ middle ground.  I held no such fears for the Miss Kitty’s Meow “Beautiful & The Damned” production, coming from a decidedly dedicated burlesque training ground in Tasmania with accompanying names of good repute from amongst the Australian scene.

The first number from the Meow Trio was a bright choreographed fan dance, with clever interplay, excellent audience eye contact, captivating smiles – this dancing dole of doves immediately injected a sense of levity into the night.

Zara La Mor then gave us a Cabaret chair routine with sharp Liza Minelli smarts to the tunes of “Mein Herr”. Some might regard this as ‘cabaret standard’, but unless you have an audience already well versed with the impact of Weimar sensibilities on such live performances – revisiting and reinforcing this history is justified. And to drive the point home, Zara dots the dancing exclamation point with eye watering splits.

Like a late Russian Royalty, Lucy Sky Diamond, dominates the stage with presence, replete in furs. Oh, and what a venus in furs is she! Playful. Poised  Never resorting to overly grandiose movements, it’s the subtlest bump of her hip, flourish with a hand and a half concealed seductive smile that shows that an understatement can speak volumes.

This was followed by the delightful Oopsie Daisy who gave us a sultry “Do Right” – her controlled jazz vibrato and pitch delivering a solid emotional performance.

Grace Cherry delivered my want of innovation. A slow controlled burlesque number with ballet highlights and contemporary dance tonality, immaculately timed and expressed over a melancholic cello soundtrack.

If to date we had the Beautiful, then Bella De Jaq gave us the Damned, like a glorious crimson fallen angel losing her wings feather by feather upon descent. Her routine was infernally good, her demeanor smoldering, like red hot embers fanned with purgatorial pleasures.

Seldom does one see a flower as radiant as a Tiger Lilly in bloom, a gorgeous vintage costume, shimmying seductively to a jazzy “My Man”. What I admired most about her was her facial expression of the lyrical emotion – amazing transitions between pain, tease, terse and sass-  a seamless glissando of heartfelt projection.

Lucy Sky Diamond returned once again, this time amongst a sea of blue parachute, rolling like waves. She emerged from the waves like the mythological Cyprian Aphrodite herself, replete in gold and jewels, dancing to a stirring classical soundtrack while weaving a beguiling spell of infatuation and beguilement upon the witness (at least I was anyway..)

And lastly Bella De Jaq, initially diaphanous and delicate like a porcelain fin de siècle doll come to life, built a closing performance with what became a raw and personal number where the energy emerged from the introspective self, a display of passionate movement and a soul laid bare.

This is a short run show - Friday 24th February (SOLD OUT) and Saturday 25th February Where: Excess Theatre, Gluttony Cnr of Grendell and Rundle Rd When: 10:45pm – 11:45pm

Adults $24 Concession $20 Fringe Benefits $10.

Be there with the Beautiful people or be Damned.

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Ok - we have been a little quiet lately, and the only excuse I’m going to provide is that when one has a young addition to the family in the first years of his life, it really throws plans for regular absinthe consumption out the window. Now he has more of his own independence, I can indulge more in daddy’s little helper and bring back some regularity to what’s on in Australia with regard to absinthe and associated cultural mores.

I have been sitting on this particular absinthe for too long - the wife is out, the child is having his afternoon nap, ginger & garlic beef stew on the slow cooker. Time to break the seal.

This Swiss baby is, according to the back label, hand crafted by Claude-Alain Bugnon, “one of the first clandestine distillers to come out into the open after the Swiss ban on absinthe was lifted in 2005″. It is a Swiss meadow in a bottle - over a dozen aromatic herbs in the making. I must admit upfront, as a trained herbalist such products tend to be favourite of mine as I untangle the dispensary upon my tongue.

I pop the T cork - this 68% alc/vol absinthe greets me with sweetened hyssop notes, a light touch of mint in the air, characteristic anise, antique leather armchair. But a dominant aroma of a freshly opened box of pipe tobacco mushrooms into the air, moist, just shredded to release the aromatics, rich like treacle. Not sure if I should smoke it in a pipe or drink it?

I pour a sample, and it is almost yellow. Citrine or Chrysoberyl. It is naturally coloured, but it is certainly a unique hue.  When drinking alone I sometimes defer to the careful pour from my water decanter, which does tend to be a bit quicker than a fountain drip, but this is not a quick louche absinthe. It resists my aqueous invocations.  The level goes up and up before the first tease of transformation. Patience. Patience is a virtue. About 3/4 there it blossoms, swirls of opaqueness that soon transforms into a veritable mothers milk - thick, solid, almost impenetrable as the spoon disappears into its veil.

To the taste, I first note a soft saltiness wrapped up in a more gentle beguiling wormwood bitterness.  And then, for a minute you fear that there may be an impending and unfortunate alcohol burn in the back of the throat - but no - it halt on the edge of the precipice and instead melts down your neck like a thick anise linament, warming, therapeutic, but no more than that.

The aroma on dilution is principally anise & fennel, the texture on the tongue is thick and gracious reflecting the appearance of the louche. I do think there may be more complexity hidden and weaved on the nose than on the tongue - but do not mistake this as meaning the taste is at all boring.

For a complicated absinthe it seems to try not to complicate the taster, which can be a risk for absinthes of this style. It does have a very good length - continuing to please in the minutes after the taste.  And then, as the absinthe in the glass warms a little, the tongue and snoz are teased with that cheeky mint again - more like a Persian Spearmint tea kind.

By no means an entry level absinthe, but I think accessible to those on all rungs above on the ladder - the training of the nose and palate I believe will unveil more and more surprises in this absinthe.  A welcome back for me, openly taunting me with what I have been missing.

Angelique Verte Suisse was kindly provided by Absinthesalon.com.au for review

The fine folk at Just Drinks and the International Wine & Spirit Research magazine have released probably the first comprehensive global market analysis of absinthe, but being closer to $900AUS , we certainly don’t feel flush enough this side of Xmas to run out and purchase it.

However their article spruiking the report does contain some interesting nuggets of information.

It is reported that Pernod Ricard is “seeking to breathe new life into absinthe by targeting its own namesake brand of the controversial spirit at the arts and fashion world”. Far be it from us to suggest that maybe this is a band wagon Pernod Ricard should have jumped on properly on at the onset, and may well be regarded as a bit Johnny–Come-Lately by those  absinthe cognoscenti. While their modern Pernod absinthe is a good entry level product it does not necessarily set the world on fire, and what with their under investment in promoting the product since its re-entry to the market, it is no surprise they only sell about 15,000 cases annually.

But Pernod Ricard has the bucks and the marketing gravitas to make this all about the image and less about what is actually in the bottle, heaven knows it worked for Green Fairy, and thereby has a major advantage over more premium artisan products and mascerated-window cleaner ‘absinth’ products.

Maybe a reformulation is in the winds ? – we can only hope, when international director for Pernod absinthe, Jean-François Collobert is quoted “Since the restrictions were lifted in France in 2011 we decided to accelerate the redevelopment of our absinthe brand both in terms of the product itself, but also in terms of geographic expansion”. Furthermore, Collobert states in the article that he sees Pernod absinthe remaining a super-premium product, perhaps as a step up from the Pernod and Ricard anis drinks, with capacity for doubling the volume and making absinthe a major.

Many already in the know would say they have a high bar to jump to be ’super-premium’ compared to artisan absinthe products on the market, but good luck to them.

It’s a shame Just Drinks keep perpetuating the disproven palava about 19^th C Absinthe having much higher levels of thujone.

The Maitland Mercury & Hunter River General Advertiser, NSW, 1 March 1892

How To Make Absinthe

Austrians aren’t exactly world-renowned for their production of absinthe, so today’s review should prove to be something of an adventure for my taste buds. In front of me is a bottle of Absinthe Montmartre, which comes from the Schnaps Museum in Vienna, a location that quickly provides intrepid absintheurs with a devastatingly obvious clue as to the distiller’s area of expertise.

Yet on we go, undaunted and curious.

On opening the dark and slender bottle adorned with a home- (or museum-) made label, a sweet cinnamon note tickles the nostrils, overpowering the base alcohol. A dark mix of olive and opaline with a hint of turquoise fills the bottom of the glass, appearing only slightly artificial. A gentle sip confirms the schnaps-like origins of the drink, albeit with a higher alcohol percentage, weighing in at 65%.

The louche doesn’t work very well with room temperature water, but once it’s refrigerator-cold there is a surprisingly satisfying movement of oil trails to begin with. Unfortunately, disappointment quickly surfaces as the water level rises, with the final louche appearing thin and translucent.

Sugar helps to blend the herbs together but the flavour still comes across as a smile curve on a graphic equalizer—or the sound from a cheap stereo system—all alcohol burn and cinnamon. There is the small saving grace of a lingering dryness from the wormwood but much more of an unwelcome citrus note than the usual unifying anise and fennel. I’m not even sure that fennel has been used here at all.

It’s not the most horribly crafted absinthe as it’s apparent that the makers have spent time tweaking the formula, this being the Cinquiéme (fifth) Edition. But a few years ago I tried the third formulation and if the memory of my taste buds serves me correctly, there isn’t a lot of difference. I’d say the word ‘Edition’ is more of a replacement for the word ‘batch’.

If you do come back with a bottle from a wild European tour that happens to include Vienna and the Schnaps Museum, I’d definitely recommend taking it with sugar and ice-cold water. It will give you enough of a hint as to what absinthe can be, but don’t expect your Green Fairy to look like Juliette Binoche—this drink will conjure forth someone more along the lines of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Montmartre was provided for review by Absinthesalon