Review: An Evening of Burlesque

Whoever said the English had a stiff upper lip has never been seated in front of a hen-do at a Burlesque show.

There was not a hint of reservation in the audience – nor onstage – as Bournemouth’s Pavilion Theatre was taken under the ostrich-feather wings of ladies such as Miss Von Teasy in ‘An Evening of Burlesque.’

The night was rich in entertainment and opulent in style. Diamonds, feathers and vintage glamour encased a multitude of enviable hourglass figures to rival the original and iconic pin-up girls of the 40’s and 50’s.

Hosted by firey red-head Kiki Kaboo, there was magic, cabaret and lashings of shimmering skin on show as femme-fatale after femme-fatale wowed the crowd with the art of seduction.

Amongst the cast, the delicious Slinky Sparkles enticed the sweet-tooths in a cup-cake print corset whilst feisty carrot-top singer Amber Topaz further whet their appetites with a light-up sapphire bra, dripping in crystals, for her rendition of ‘Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’

A little light relief came in the pint-sized form of magician John Vanderput (“It’s Dutch,” he said. “‘Vander’ meaning ‘of the’, ‘put’ meaning ‘hobbits’…”).

Whilst classical pianist Chrys Columbine tickled the keys and the fancy of the audience, peeling layer after layer off with every turn of the page.

Overall, it was raunchy, it was cheeky and it was very Las Vegas. There was certainly no room for those who blush amongst the suspenders, stilettos and sequinned nipple tassels.

Some will call it devilish, others heavenly. Either way, you are unlikely to forget ‘An Evening of Burlesque.’

Fame, The Musical

Neon legwarmers were abandoned in the back along with any expectations for a stage version of the latest Fame movie, in which the setting of a modern day American performing arts school thrusts hip hop, tap, ballet and contemporary dance into the same spotlight.

Instead, the Swish of the Curtain Theatre School set the scene for the 1980’s – a time before the majority of the talented young cast were even a twinkle in their daddy’s eyes.

But behind their angelic faces they were to bravely delve into more adult minds, with themes of sex, prejudice and drug-use prevailing in scenes between musical numbers from the original soundtrack.

 The lead roles, at first, were characture-ish; two dimensional portrayals of the token nerd, the It-girl, the one-who-goes-unnoticed and the drama school diva-boy – all outdone by the Spanish stallion’s three-minute musical ode to morning glory.

But by the opening of the second half, the actors’ had matured to an admirable level, exceeding even the years of their characters, whose journey of self-discovery unfolds within their school’s semesters.

Relationships onstage were dynamic and intriguing; between ballerina, Iris Kelly, and foul-mouthed Tyrone Jackson as well as social outcast Schlomo Metzenbaum and his exotic Carmen Diaz.

But the romance belonged to acting class sweethearts Serena Katz and Nick Piazza with their darling duet of “Let’s Play a Love Scene” showing off two incredibly powerful voices.

Comedy, meanwhile, was encapsulated in the characters of girl-crazy Jose Vegas and food-loving, diet-pill-popping dancer, Mabel Washington – who both had the crowd eating out of their hands.

A strong chorus – including dozens of adorable ‘Fame, The Musical’ children – showed off harmonies which should have earned the Bournemouth based group the top-spot of Channel 5’s “Don’t Stop Believing” last year, where instead they finished as runners up.

Dancing was strong in areas of ballet and modern, and an ensemble number lead by rapper Tyrone filled the theatre with a funky urban vibe.

But emotion was not lost in the action. Plaid-clad head-teacher Miss Sherman showed her human side in a touching version of “These are my children” while Carmen’s vulnerability beneath her faultless vocals made hairs on the back of the neck stand up during a memorable and heart-wrenching solo performance of “In LA.”

By the time the Fame logo descended over all the vitality of the final song – the highly anticipated title number - the Swish of the Curtain Theatre School had proved themselves as triple threats; singers, dancers and actors. A name to be remembered.

Anton and Erin: "Puttin' on the Ritz"

Wednesday 9th February, 2011
The Pavilion Theatre, Bournemouth

It was a performance to find yourself getting totally lost in. While critics have accused their earlier tours of being somewhat stuck in a time warp, Anton Du Beke and Erin Boag prove that their timelessness is one of their greatest strengths. Watching them grace the Pavilion’s stage was to be blissfully unaware of any goings on beyond the theatre’s four walls.

There was a class and sophistication in the Strictly Come Dancing duo’s ballroom routines which epitomised vintage Hollywood glamour; Anton was dapper in sharp suits and patent shoes while Erin wowed the crowd throughout with a series of show-stopping diamond-scattered dresses.

The up-tempo numbers jarred slightly with the romance of the rest of the routines but allowed the show’s stars, joined by two other dance couples, to risk tricks and lifts that are ten times more nail-biting to see live than they are to watch on Strictly. Meanwhile, jazzy routines to hits like ‘Razzle Dazzle’ had the audience craning their necks in anticipation.

The tone was set by soulful vocalist Lance Ellington accompanied by the London Concert Orchestra playing live onstage. The singer’s pitch-perfect charm became a highlight of the show, particularly in his goose-bump inducing rendition of ‘Cry Me a River.’

It was a pleasant surprise to see both Anton and Erin take to the mic to sing for the audience; in the first half Anton carried off a smooth cover of “Somewhere Beyond the Sea” while Erin later gave a coquettish performance of “My Baby and Me” in a silver two-piece which had jaws dropping all around.

The professionals' chemistry onstage was lovely throughout although the conversation, at times, fell a little flat. Though Du Beke is a crowd-pleaser and Boag a softly-spoken delight, a lack of direction made for some awkward pauses and the humour and showmanship was a little dated in its Bruce Forsythe style delivery. This is not so difficult to forgive however, considering that most of the audience were undoubtedly Brucie fans.

And away from the bright lights of the hit BBC1 show, Anton and Erin did not disappoint. The show was often serene, always sophisticated and, in its essence, completely timeless.

Live Review: Alex Veale

Three chords in to his fourth song, Alex Veale is pulled aside by the event’s organiser. He steps away from the microphone - fingers instinctively still strumming - and he smiles, but he’s probably cussing under his breath and thinking “This would never happen to Dylan” – Jacob, that is, not Bob.

Not that it's any surprise. He’s performing on a stage completely unsuitable for him, in front of a seated audience who are otherwise engaged in conversation across school-hall style tables. They chat obliviously in lowered voices that together emit a terrible, droney background hum.

And this is the stage that for now belongs to Veale – a twenty-something local lad turned out in a shirt, jeans and beat-up converse. He is a kind of indie-folk-rock Knight on this occasion, as he stands against the backdrop of castles, horses and shields which adorn the walls of this middle-of-nowhere Somerset Village Hall.

But he deserves to be taken seriously.

Alex is on his own this time, performing mellow acoustic instead of heavier Indie / Rock with his three-man band The Operation. He’s good at it, too.

His voice is unpolished and pitch-perfect - watching him perform is like stumbling across a guy singing his heart out to an empty room.

‘Course in this case he might as well be. He’s not grabbing the attention of the audience but they are similarly failing to do him justice. It’s a shame, but luckily it’s probably one known to any musician worth his salt.

If you just look and listen for a moment, you’ll be pulled in by the face of a guy whose heart is furrowed in his brows instead of shown off on his sleeve; Veale gives an enticingly introvert performance that manages to steer clear of self-indulgence.

Finally, with one song, the room goes quiet. He hushes the crowd with the opening lines of “She said,” and suddenly it’s as if he’s singing right through you.

People start to take notice and he follows it up with a bashful but brilliant cover of one of The Operation’s heavier songs, which he teasingly introduces as one he chose for the challenge because “it definitely wouldn’t work acoustically…”

And he goes on to win that bet with himself, making it look easy all the time. So why he struggles to flog his EP after the set is a mystery.

The only plausible explanation is that the audience only had eyes for the next act taking to the small-town stage...

Well if that be the case; pray this be the last time that Alex Veale is outshined by three middle-aged men and a banjo.