Christeene: The Christeene Machine
  • By Sue Bevan
  • |
  • 5th Aug 2014
  • |
  • ★★★★★

The queue for this show was in itself an experience. I asked one man what he knew about the show. “Well,” he grinned, “not a lot. I know it’s more than your average penis puppetry.” I was then told by the steward that quite a lot of people leave. Fast.

Prepare to be outraged. You might. Prepare to be shocked. There may be moments. But certainly prepare to be entertained, because of that there’s no doubt.

The room is dark and smoke-filled, music pounding violently in the gloom. Christeene is carried onstage on the back of one of her pair of dancers, looking pretty much as if she’s barely survived a sadistic sexual assault. Balloons on a pretty string are attached to her buttplug. She hands them to a spectator and for the first time in the show (but not the last) I was glad I wasn’t standing stage-side.

“I need your essence!” Christeene screams. “Get the fuck up the front! We’re not gonna hurt you!”

What follows is an hour of what I can only describe as anarchistic, debauched filth, and it’s brilliant. So too is the choreography and dance. The energy is off the scale at times. There’s a political agenda here about reclaiming our “inner ponies” in the face of the drive (by “them,” the bankers and the guys in suits) to kill our ponies off and silence us. It touches a chord here, as it should - and it’s funny. Christeene dons a nice little lace “on-som-blay. That’s French for pillowcase.”

I go from being somewhat anxious at the top of the show to slipping backstage and asking if I can be in the next. Prepare to be outraged. You might. Prepare to be shocked. There may be moments. But certainly prepare to be entertained, because of that there’s no doubt.

Reviews by Sue Bevan

Dixon Place

The Unwritten Law

★★★★★
The Jazz Bar

Remembering Chet

★★★★
Just the Tonic at The Mash House

Have Fun

★★
theSpace on North Bridge

Angel: Take This Body

★★★★
Underbelly, Cowgate

Shame

★★★★
Freestival St Mary's

Alasdair Lists Everything

Performances

Location

The Blurb

Enter The Christeene Machine: A gender-blending, booty-pounding, perversion of punk dragged through a musical theatre gutter, commanded by Christeene: a human pissoir of foul hilarity and raw unabashed sexuality. The Christeene Machine explodes across the Edinburgh skyline with a full arsenal of ferocious live music intertwined with raw moments of strained intimacy and fiery stink, racing alongside an army of arse-cranking electro-R&B, radioactive theatricals, sexual assault drones C Baby and T Gravel, and top brass DJ JJ Booya commanding the sounds of the space.