The title says it all, really. The young company revels in pulling an audience up short in mid-cackle, playing gleefully with shock and surrealism as if they were new toys. From a transvestite buggery fantasy to a little ditty entitled "I'm Over the Moon About You" sung to a bare bum, the cast charge at their spectators' composure like stud bulls in a tea-room. Occasionally they foul up, but the show moves so fast that its mistakes seldom catch up with it.
Written for The Independent.
Copyright © Ian Shuttleworth; all rights reserved.
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