Edinburgh Fringe 2012
A bit of background information before we get stuck in: a series of communication problems meant that there was no ticket for this reviewer when the show began. That’s understandable, really – we’re getting to the last week of the festival, and frankly it’s impressive people are still able to put their clothes on the right way round. The people at the venue were very helpful, however, and managed to secure a place for the first section of the show. The point of telling you all this is not for complaint, but to point out that although this reviewer only got to see one small section of the show (and, by all accounts, the least impressive section at that), it could hardly be faulted.
Keeping things tick-tocking along is Dusty Limits, who should really be prevailed upon to MC any public gathering (with the possible exception of children’s parties), a smart, sexy rake of a man, lip curling both to flirt with the audience and snarl at them. The sort of performer who really does make this sort of thing look more than effortless, he’s still somehow managed to stay cabaret’s dirty brilliant secret, cheekbones sharper than any of the masonry you’re likely to see at the dungeons of the Underbelly.
This being a late night cabaret show, the line up changed each night, topped off with a burlesque act. On each night, various performers from around the fringe give a snippet of their shows, in the hope that you’ll come along and see the real thing the next day. In that respect, it’s somewhat like the Royal Mile, but with slightly less flyers, and significantly more nudity. Well, more or less.
On the night this reviewer was there, the line up was very strong (you get the impression that you could throw that line at the Boom Boom Club any night of the Fringe, and it would still be accurate), but a personal favourite was Vikki Stone, a comic armed with a keyboard and a commanding wit. A song that appeared to have been based on personal experience certainly got the measure of certain members in the audience.
The audience at a BB Club (and it’s taken me this long to work out that the acronym here has already been taken by someone else) are moved from space to space while the next part of the show is set up, so it’s at this point that this reviewer had to leave proceedings. It’s impressive, then, that the Club was still some of the most fun we’ve had at the Festival – even if we only got to experience a third. Who knows? If we’d been able to see the rest, we may well have died and gone to cabaret heaven.