Charismatic Bob Downe was in tip-top condition, having come from 3 or more hours at the gym, which he spent in the showers. It was, obviously, a quick change, as he was simply clad in t(r)akky-daks, to deliver his latest entertainment opus, 20 Golden Greats. Not surprising he was in such fine fettle, fresh, as he was, from his triumph at Beijing, where he achieved bronze (only just pipped by Richard Simmons), in the 100m Run Like A Girl.
His scintillating stagecraft, bolstered by a wardrobe Kel would kill for, could easily result in a star blinded by his own luminosity, yet he seeks not to blow his own trumpet. Indeed, he's the first to point to the anatomical incorrectness & impossibility of such, not withstanding a good 6 months of pilates.
This, after all, is the same lithe, blithe althletic man-boy who has earned such kudos on Celebrity Weakest Link & who has come to the intellectual fore as Australia's second-brainiest comedian. While not quite as famous as, say, Liza Minelli (who, fittingly had a period of a thousand years named after her), Downe delivers unbridled entertainment, in spades.
From Gary Glitter's Rock 'n' Roll, to The Trammps' Disco Inferno; Earth, Wind & Fire's Boogie Wonderland, to the big O's Pretty Woman, Downe is the ultimate upper, the high-camp king of kitsch; as quintessentially so as Dame Edna, lamingtons or porcelain ducks flying up a fibro wall.
There were doyens of Sydney's prosperous drag scene on hand, to comedically conspire and thank God for Chris, who (somehow) slept through almost the entire show, despite being pressed up against the stage and victim to countless taunts.
There was a hint of poignant sadness, as Downe reflected on the loneliness of solo performance (there's noone to push your stool in). If you're getting the feeling this was AO, unexpurgated Downe-'n'-dirty version, as against the primetime, dumbed-Downe diet variety, you're on the money. And all the funnier for it! Mind you, not all his act, by any means, relies on humour centred around dancing in the dark: there's a conscience routine on (ah, diehard) smokers ('a dying breed'), for instance.
This is the sort of show that can leave you feeling like you've done a hundred situps, such is the gut-busting laughter it incites. And it came with the value-added bonuses of a tight and typically sharpened support set, from the wonderfully endowed Jackie Loeb, who not only has a ready-to-roll stock of pointedly arsey one-liners ('I'm Jewish, but I've been told I've very low-income features', an ingeniously pre-emptive auto-strike against any low-flying anti-Semitic remarks), but whose Cher, among other divas, you have to hear. Big Patty, as head of security and Bob's mum, Ida, lifelong president of the Murwillumbah CWA, made the evening a triple treat. Think Priscilla, without the costumes and pyrotechnics.
20 Golden Greats
Bob Downe
Venue: Club Swans, Kings Cross
Date: Friday October 17
Time: Doors open 8.00pm
Tickets: $33.00
Bookings: 8061 2320 or ticketek
Visit: www.clubswans.com.au
