His Majesty’s Theatre was packed for the performance of one of Shakeapeare’s darkest tragedies, Macbeth, a psychological study in the devastating effect of a misplaced ambition.
It’s Desperate Housewives by way of Tim Burton and Lemony Snicket in this little community, where women and their daughters dress in matching pastels and popularity is a never-ending cause for anxiety.
This is a beautifully written piece, the language segueing marvellously from ferocity to lyricism with the occasional detour through middle-class twaddle thrown in for good measure.
It was clear at the very first centre-stage revelation of the Dame in piquant pink to the final bow of Barry Humphries himself that we were in the presence of a master.
This play is about sex used as a weapon whether active offensive or passive. It makes for great theatre because we still find it hard to face the issues that come with what must be the most complex emotional trigger in our battery of hormones.
In Zen Zen Zo’s production of Dracula, the clash between sexuality and religion, between modernity and tradition, between change and uniformity, is explored and explodes into a deliciously innovative piece of performance.
Theirs is a humour that relies on the shock of non sequiturs, of mad segues off into the unknown, a humour that encourages their audience to let their imaginations run wild.
