Clicendales 2018 Review: ‘A five star smorgasbord of sizzling, sexy, sinewy flesh’
The NHS is going to be in good hands
Hundreds of Bristol students crammed into the O2 Academy last night to enjoy the spectacle of scores of sexy medics stripping off in the most titillating philanthropic display of the year.
For some 25 years now, student run Clicendales has been raising money for children with cancer by hosting an annual charity dance show replete with the most magnificent specimens of the Medical Department.
Over the last four months, the 180 performers had been training hard to perfect their dances and (more importantly) their abs. The ecstatic reception they received last night proved it had not been in vain.
The night began with a soaring set by Bristol's all female a cappella group 'Pitch Fight'. Dressed appropriately in purple, the colour of imperial Rome, these latter day empresses bestrode the stage, whipping the crowd up into an ecstatic frenzy in anticipation of the delights to come.
After the empresses came forth a queen: On Angkanawatana sashayed forth in a raunchy, raucous rendition of 'When You're Good to Mama' that oozed sex and confidence. By now the expectant crowd were on the verge of hysteria, drunk on beer and the prospect of a smorgasbord of sizzling, sexy, sinewy flesh.
They didn't have to wait long. Following a welcome from the two MCs who channelled the Northern charm of Morecambe and Wise with their lewd, crude and rude innuendos, the first dance got under way. As befitted the 'Netclix & Chill' theme, all the performances were were based on television series, with Ab Fab appropriately kicking them off.
Next up was Countdown. Never before has a daytime television aimed at the 65+ market been brought to life in such a captivating manner as medics cavorted across the stage in sparkling red bras and tight black trunks that left little to the imagination.
A Question of Sport followed. In a virtual 'Dance of the Seven Veils' the performers removed all layers, transforming from Winter Olympians in wavey ski garms to skimpy dressed tennis players in Wimbledon white before culminating in the red swimwear of Baywatch fame.
Orange Is the New Black came thereafter as the all female performers of Litchfield Penitentiary shed their orange jump suits to reveal ebony black undergarments that captivated the besotted crowd. One open mouth onlooker turned to this reporter and muttered: "I think I'm in love".
Planet Earth closed off the opening third of the show. A benevolent, if somewhat bemused, David Attenborough beamed down on the stage, Big Brother like, as a variety of animal print costumes were whipped off to a range of tunes including "I Like to Move It" and "Circle of Life".
After the interval came a pan continental celebration of period drama. In Downton Abbey, class divisions were eroded as well dressed aristocrats removed their fine clothes to reveal bewitching maid costumes and rippling six packs. For Narcos, camouflaged DEA agents spun round mustachioed drug barons as various chemical equations flashed above.
Love Island was up next, with a collection of colourful costumes befitting the characters which graced the most recent series. The exquisite moves and appearance of the dancers were very much the crowd's type, 100%, as they roared their heroes on.
Ghostbusters followed, with a dozen heavily made up medics resembling the aged geriatrics they'll inevitably be treating upon graduation. Putting the 'sex' into 'sexagenarian', the grey haired performers hobbled about the stage before- as usual- busting out their moves and tearing their clothes off.
The BBC News countdown heralded the next act, with the familiar beeps making a brilliant Lakota-esque soundtrack. Ladies clad in Geri Halliwell Union Jack skirts stamped, swivelled, glided and gyrated round Trump fanboys as performers dressed as Theresa May and the tangerine faced President writhed on one another. Never before had the Special Relationship been quite so special.
After the second interval came Dr Who, featuring a number of curiously attractive Cybermen clad in sparkling silver hot pants, before Bristol's Next Top Model brought on a bevy of boys in leotards that likely had many of the men in the audience questioning their sexuality.
It wouldn't have been a medic show without a homage to one of the plethora of hospital based TV programmes. Grey's Anatomy brought with it the chance to study many a fine anatomy as gowns and scrubs were unceremoniously dispatched, to the delight of the screeching spectators.
It was down to the final two shows now. The screams of female audience members rose to the supersonic as the muscular men of Peaky Blinders emerged to duly remove jackets, waist coats and trousers, with the aforementioned peaked caps being the only item to hide their dignity in an otherwise fully naked display of finely toned flesh.
It was left to the women of Sex In the City to round off proceedings. Dressed immaculately in designer coats and high heels, the ladies looked- in the words of the great Samantha Jones- "fabulous". Twirling around in shimmering crop tops and ebony hotpants, they gave the show the confetti filled climax it so richly deserved.
Entertaining and enticing, bedazzling and beguiling, Clicendales was undoubtedly a five star show. The enthusiasm and industry invested by both planners and performers was available for all to see and has resulted in thousands of pounds yet again being raised for a good cause.
Congratulations to all those involved and The Tab looks forward to seeing it next year. Photo credits: Robert Young.