A short and sweet performance that makes use of popular romantic tracks to tackle the trials and troubles of online dating and the accompanying creeps who come with the app,
The playful banter between Megan and Chantelle is by far one of most endearing aspects of the show.
There is a clear formula that works well with the structure of mingling songs with comedic lyrics as much as it illustrates the declining standards of chivalry in the online dating scene; the mashup between Sixpence None The Richer’s Kiss Me with Fifty Cent’s Candy Shop testifies to this. From the offset, Megan Juniper’s exceptional vocal skills helps to bring a little laughter to the media app and address the all-so-familiar problem of comparing one’s love life to one’s peers without derailing the intended humour. Backup singer Chantelle interjects every so often with a quote from a popular rom/com, whilst the silent hero, Rob, sits solemnly behind the piano. And when in unison, the collaboration between the three of them is magnetic.
What the late night, midweek showing revealed without a large audience to stand on, however, was a refractory, skeletal product more akin to band practise than cabaret. Not that they didn’t deliver professionally to the small collection of attendees (five in total), but rather this demonstrates that much of the humour is dependent upon a bigger crowd, and therein lies Love Me Tinder’s greatest weakness.
The conversational style doesn’t demand much from the audience, and none of the trio are in want of excess applause: certainly, they don’t come across as self-important. They were engaging with the audience despite the size of the crowd, and the playful banter between Megan and Chantelle is by far one of most endearing aspects of the show.