Jennifer Kingwell has a voice like whisky liqueur and a talent on the piano to rival her own hero, Tom Waits. As host and creator of the
a diverse night that certainly encompasses both glitter and doom
As a revue, this show replaces the flashy, frenetic feel of other Fringe variety shows with a languid sultriness that even manages to fit in an interval for bonus trips to the bar. Cabaret seating near the stage is almost deserted as the majority of the audience play it safe and sit in the theatre seats at the back, but they needn’t have worried - all this show wants to do is drunkenly embrace its audience and whisper sweet nothings.
We open with a piece of gender bending escapology from Jessica McKerlie, whose frantic routine invites us to view ‘traditional’ feminine garb as a straightjacket. It’s an excellent routine that may not have been the best opener, as the audience aren’t yet sure how to react and perhaps need to be eased in. Comedy and song from Michelle Brasier (of Space Tortoise fame) is a delight and the audience lap up a scene from musical theatre improv troupe, the Impromptunes.
Unfortunately things slow up with a performance from Puppet Fiction. Their skill with marionettes is undeniable but their act, which is pretty much a word for word rendition of a few scenes from Pulp Fiction fast loses its novelty.
We’re back on track for the finale act from pianist and singer Laurie Black. Her self-deprecating persona and songs, covering the proliferation of cats on the internet and emotionally smudged makeup, round out a diverse night that certainly encompasses both glitter and doom.
