Just got back from Kiki and Herb at the Soho Theatre with J, C, J and a bunch of other people we ran into. By the time I got there, they were all several sheets to the wind in the downstairs bar.
The show is amazing; it's old fashioned cabaret at its best, true performance with an outrageous, post-modern pop-culture twist. It's Woody Allen (the Early Nightclub Years era) meets Rocky Horror and Dame Edna. They're funny and loud and scary and wild all at the same time. It's a little bit stand-up, a little bit music hall and a little bit subversive. The Wu-Tang peice - tell me the last time you saw a faux-seventy year old woman in her nightclub best rapping, ferchrisakes - was magical. The guys were all on to see the second show at Duckies at the Vauxhall Tavern at midnight, but as I'm getting up at stupid o'clock to meet my Dad at Heathrow, I sadly had to give it a miss.
They've just been extended (and they're not a kitchen in North London) and they're on twice nightly for another six weeks, I think. So really go. Although I imagine that the theatre setting inhibits them some, and they may be different/looser in a club vibe, so if they do any other club nights, I'd go there first.
Seems like every time I go to the Soho Theatre I see someone famous. And tonight was no exception: J pointed out Pete Burns from Dead or Alive in the bar beforehand. He was wearing the kind of pantaloony-trousers that MC Hammer wore in the eighties, that I always figured he'd stolen from Arabian Nights. Pete was not himself - although we've not stayed in touch - he was looking a little Michael Jackson with collagen-style lip enhancements, plus some hair extensions and a rather fetching camoflage print headscarf. He had a look about him that was slightly cleaner-bought-her-clothes-in-thrift-shop, though he was in good shape, I grant you. His theatre companion looked like Bepe out of East Enders and had the whole facial topiary thing going on in a big way.
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