REVIEW: Inside MedSoc’s Crystal Ball

Dreams were both prophesied and realised at this year’s MedSoc Ball.

The classy affair managed to transform the Union Society – normally a hive of hacks and broken electoral dreams – into a Frank Sinatra-themed event, “Fly Me to the Moon”.

Selwyn Jazz feat. psychedelic blue-lit counter with milkshakes in the background.

The night was remarkable for a number of things – not least medics having fun – but it was MedSoc’s resident mystic, a man in his forties called Gavin, that sealed the ball’s surrealist credentials.

While we presume most medics went for tips about the future of the NHS, our candlelit session somehow strayed so far from reality that we were reimagined as playboys and future hardcore capitalists (disclaimer: we do not endorse either). He also warned us about a legion of women – namely, Lauren, Kelly, Kirsten, Laura and a “dark-skinned woman” – to be wary of.

The icing on the cake, so to speak, were the assorted towers of cupcakes against which the fortune telling took place.

May Balls, add this to the to-do list. We look forward to seeing an army of fortune tellers gracing St John’s.

Hey look, it’s medics and they’re not even working.

The theme of the night – “Fly Me to the Moon” – was not, contrary to our expectations, a rip off of John Lewis’ now infamous Christmas ad but, instead, a testament to Frank Sinatra. The bar was decked out in an appropriately lunar manner, with balloons and stars and a psychedelic blue counter serving milkshakes. This contributed greatly to the atmosphere of the Ball – cosmic, one might say.

Anticipation.

The bar led into a laser tag arena as well as a lightsabre-equipped Nintendo Wii. The other side led into the Union’s meeting room, where Medics shared company with masseurs, a photographer and a chocolate fountain.

It was like this, but with medics.

The main chamber was decorated with moons and stars and featured a bar on one side as well as a stage on the other. The highlight of the night was Truly Medley Deeply, a perennial favourite, who managed to transform the crowd of largely overworked to be junior doctors (take note Jeremy Hunt) into quite possibly the happiest crowd of human beings we’d seen in the angst-ridden history of the Union.

Guests were able to add to their hog roast with a selection of salads and sauces.

Guests were well-fed and most queues, bar those at the bar, were not far off Goldilocks-length – a queue not being so long as to be irksome, but not being so short that you have no excuse to chat to medics you don’t know (they were more than happy to discuss the state of the NHS with two humanities students). Outside, there was a quality hog roast, accompanied by “Saturn ring” donuts (geddit?) and some kind of pleasantly warm-apple-juice-concoction.

In case you wondered where pork came from.

The Ball was busy at times and it was a shame the Union hadn’t let them use the upper library, although they took advantage of it to put up an appropriate sign:

The Outer Reaches of the Union-verse were out of reach from mere medic mortals.

All in all, despite lacking the luxury of a LawSoc-sized budget, the medics defied austerity to produce a well-organised and atmospheric if slightly crowded night.

Food: 4/5

Drink: 3.5/5

Atmosphere: 4/5

The Goldilocks queue coefficient: 5/5

Entertainment: 4/5

Value for money: 4/5