Storm In A Teacup [FringeTIX]
Flipside Circus @ The Ringbox
2:00pm, Sun 8 Mar 2009
First mistake: I leapt at the opportunity to book this ticket. “Matinee!” I thought with glee. Alas, three words of doom: Fringe. Family. Day. So the crowd is at capacity, and it’s hot and sunny and we’re in the Ringbox with very little shade to be had. Sunburn and crankiness ahoy!
But still, at least it’s supposed to be a rendition of The Tempest… another bit of my beloved Shakespeare. But then the show starts…
Oh shit – it’s a piece by a youth circus troupe.
My heart plummets. I normally try to avoid these types of shows, because my head shifts from “entertain me, dammit” to “awww – aren’t they talented for their age.” Which essentially means that I’m probably not being entertained. Which kinda defies the point of me being there.
Surprisingly, though, the opening bit is quite exciting – there’s probably about a dozen kids roaming the stage, engaging in all manner of tricks; it may not have been hugely complex, but the movement and colour creates the illusion of frenzied activity – and that, in turn, leads to a decent feeling of excitement (there’s that word again).
The problem is… that feeling doesn’t last.
Aside from Prospero (played with fatherly aplomb) and the drunkards (played for laughs by the three eldest members of the troupe, their intertwined juggling was a highlight), the youngsters aren’t much cop onstage. Their tricks are par for the course for their age, the progression of the storyline perfunctory at best. But the most talented of the young ‘uns was the young fella playing Ariel – he showed great moxie, and wasn’t afraid to work the audience for his deserved applause.
Apart from those occasional blurs of colour, there wasn’t a whole lot else to be happy about… and it was as hot as fuck in the afternoon sun… I actually prayed for cooler weather. The re-telling of The Tempest was tenuous at best, sadly, and apart from the previously mentioned talent, there wasn’t that much to write home about.
One of the songs they used during one of the kids’ routines was… ummmmm… perhaps a touch inappropriate. The rapid-fire funk of Mr Bungle’s “Squeeze Me Macaroni” blared out from the speakers, presumably for the cheerful (but dubious) “knick knack paddywhack and give your dog a bone, baby” chorus. And that’s okay, it’s just that the rest of the song is a collection of sexual euphemisms…
I wanna lock Betty Crocker in the kitchen
And knock her upper during supper
Clutter up her butter gutter
Hostess Ding Dong wrapped an eggroll around my wong
While Dolly Madison proceded to ping my pong
Your Milky Way is M’n’M in your britches
And I’ll tell you Baby Ruth it looks mighty delicious
Keep blowing my gum, cuz here I come
I’m gonna get you all sticky with my Bubble Yum
Knick knack paddywhack and give your dog a bone, baby
I was givin’ some head to some french bread
It was a four course orgy on the spread of my bed
French kissin’ french fries in my Fruit of the Looms
I get deeper penetration with a fork and a spoon
I got yogurt meat loaf smeared all over my ass
I stick my weiner in two buns and and then give it the gas
Sour cream from my spleen into Levi jeans
Gonna bust the seams with my refried beans
Ronald McDonald just loves to be fondled
With Big Mac he’ll fuck it like a Chicken McNugget
Colonel Sanders wants to goose Granny’s loose caboose
He’s gonna give her a boost with that Kentucky fried juice
Sooper doop poop scoop, loop de loop, chicken coop
Shoot some hoop, top sirloin from the groin
Topped with dick cheese, sneeze, wheeze,
From the skeez disease, wooi!
Take a dump, baby, squirt some gravy
Pour some sugar on me, honey, make it brown & runny
Give a little Flavor Flav, back from the grave
Gonna burn some toast, pump some humpin’ rump roast
Sure, they looped the song before the really rude bits…
Knick knack paddywhack, jump in the sack, in fact
Jerk the smack and crack Jack from the back
Bananarama or ramabanana
Fuckin’ Barry Manilow on the Copa Cabana
Squeeze me macaroni, slop your face with my bologna
You gotta syphon the spinach, you gotta cream the corn
Sperm scrambles the eggs and a meal is born
Cookin’ like a beginner, but I’m goin’ up in her
I had Fritos for lunch I’m havin’ bush for dinner
Chef Boyardee and the Three Muskateers
Shove Charleston Chews in their rears like queers
“Holy moly, guacamole!” said my Chips Ahoy
I’m gonna pinch a ravioli on the Pillsbury dough…Tall man
Knick knack paddywhack and give your dog a boner, baby
We came to pottie…we came to pottie down your throat
…but still – a bit odd for a show aimed at (and starring) kids, innit? Still, it kept me in wonderment…