A stunning and intimate performance leaves ALLAN HENNESSY wanting to sweat profusely with Nigel Farage at zumba class.
Have you ever wanted to know what a UKIP gym would be like? Have you ever wanted to participate in a cathartic ritual whilst mulling over today’s political and social controversies? Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Jesus met The Beatles? Of course you have.
Pelican is, quite frankly, the epitome of bizarre hilarity and joyous absurdity. It was well constructed by a clearly intelligent quartet of comedians. Sam, Guy, Jordan and Theo light-heartedly lamented about life – from the hardship of London Underground commuters to skittles deprivation, from homosexuality to self-worth. The best part of it all is that they did this while groaning and galloping around the stage with minimal clothing – yum.
The four showed wonderful rapport. This only served to make the affair all the more intimate – the set design and cosiness of the Corpus Playroom added the icing on the cake.
What is more commendable, however, is that the audience were made to feel valued, part of the ‘gang’. The audience participation was key in making the night as special as it was. Perhaps the biggest testament to this is that the crew invited the audience to join them for a post-show drink.
The four invited Nigel Farage to the show: “Come along, Nige,” Jordan cheekily said. Nige, do come along once you come out of Cambridge-exile – even you’d laugh.
You can’t shy away from the marvellous political undertone in this show. In a maverick bit about ‘sketches rejected for inclusion in the show’, it was disappointing that we did not find out what ‘Robert Mugabe learns to love’ would be like. Perhaps we will be able to once Nigel Farage learns to do the same…
Pelican is satirical, audacious and bizarre. You’ll either love it or hate it, but do go along to the Corpus Playroom and find out for yourself. A message to the crew: thank you for the sock that tended up in my face, I felt truly involved.
As I say, bloody bizarre.