Review: "Wild Bore" at The Soho Theatre
I like feminist, theatrical, commentating butts and I cannot lie.
Recently VBO went to watch Wild Bore at the Soho Theatre, but it has taken me a while to get round to writing this review because I felt conflicted. Conflicted because, on the one hand, I loved it, on the other hand,
if I wrote a stonking stinker of a review I’d be in with a chance of actually featuring in the show… Tricky.
The piece ostensibly takes critiques of the three players’ work (Ursula Martinez, Adrienne Truscott, and Zoe Coombs Marr) and…critiques them, panel show-style...but, this is a panel show with a difference…
First up, this is NOT A FAMILY-FRIENDLY SHOW. DO NOT TAKE YOUR KIDS. DO NOT TAKE YOUR GRANDMA. I saw body parts. Loads of them. The show opens with a trestle table with three microphones and three, very opinionated lady butts. I ended up with a sore face from the alternating gasping and giggling.
I don’t want to give too much away, but I will say that this show was amazingly weird and amazingly good fun and that there is nothing like a group of grown women being deliberately, defiantly daft, to turn something which could have come across as bitter into a thing of joy.
I mean, this was a theatrical commentary on theatre commentary, so I fully appreciate it not being up everyone’s alley…but – and it’s a big but – it’s funny as hell. There are bum jokes (seeing a theme?), scorchingly acerbic reviews, and a strong dash of slapstick. (As a side note, all three of these women have excellent voices. I would listen to them read audio books. Preferably really serious ones.)
I do have some questions though:
- How do you wash a giant bum-mask once it’s covered in dog food? Do you dry-clean it?
- How do you grow the confidence to do an interpretive dance to the Titanic theme in front of theatre full of people?
- How does one walk like an anchovy?
Go see the show and let me know if you have any ideas.
A lot of the humour is that which might be more traditionally associated with men – loud, brash, perhaps a little infantile – and maybe that’s the point. Or is it? Or isn’t it?
Whether it is, or it isn’t, Wild Bore isn’t for the faint-hearted, but it felt, to me, like a show which had come about from three funny, clever women, sitting together, drinking tequila and reading their bad reviews aloud to each other.