Adelaide Fringe Review – Sex Pest

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.

Jonathan Mar 16th 2012 08:01 pm Art,Burlesque,Cabaret,Culture,Events,Reviews No Comments yet Trackback URI

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