Mighty Boosh
IT’S the first of a seven-night stand in Manchester for The Mighty Boosh, including a recently added third night at the M.E.N. Arena on December 23.
The stakes couldn’t be higher, and some would say that such lofty expectations inevitably set you up for a fall.
With three successful series and a much lauded debut live tour behind them, creators Noel Fielding and Julian Barratt are hanging over the great divide; on one side, the kids who turn up dressed as their favourite Boosh characters, on the other, the ones who still believe Noel and Julian have a lot to prove.
Four months of lukewarm reviews have preceded these Manchester shows, and its easy to see why.
The first half, a Generation Game-like conveyer belt of characters, is a slightly shambolic Boosh show-and-tell: Bob Fossil, Naboo The Shaman, Bollo, The Moon and alien Tony Harrison all take their turn on the all-singing set.
That it follows such a hilarious entrance – Vince Noir (Fielding) sailing on stage in a glittery boat while Howard Moon (Barratt) rows on in a dingy for a rendition of their ‘crimp’ Future Sailors – probably makes the role call seem even more like filler.
Despicable
Fortunately, it gets more interesting as the content gets more despicable.
The grotesque Crack Fox proves difficult for Barratt to operate, but his quick wit makes the most of the technical drama, and The Hitcher (Fielding’s murderous Cockney alter ego) scares everyone rigid with a wander out into the audience before sending out the first half on a song about eels.
In the seats behind me, a disgruntled young man mutters that he hopes the second half will be better.
He gets his wish – but only just, as some semblance of storytelling creeps back in via a Howard Moon (and Ernie Wise-style) play what I wrote.
In it, Moon is the messianic sole-survivor of the end of the world, but inevitably Vince can’t let Howard get away with such am-dramery and he gatecrashes proceedings in a mirror-ball rocket and gold lame mini-skirt as the winged glam-gladiator Sunflash.
From here, he takes control of the script by threatening to reveal the centre spread of Howard’s jazz-themed porn photo shoot.
Key aim
Howard goes along with the new story, written with the key aim of making him look like an idiot.
It does, of course, proving that Vince is the sort of sidekick Howard could really do without (Vince typically gets away with it via one cheeky grin at the audience).
But it does illustrate the key difference between the Boosh on TV and stage; here, the gang let their hair down and banish the surrealist storytelling to the sidelines in favour of having an old-fashioned lark.
Vince and Howard’s one-on-one front of curtain banter is where this back-to-basics approach works best, or when they milk a recurring in-joke – this time, it’s rock band Kings Of Leon and the Honey Monster (who recently mimicked their crimp style of songwriting in an advert) at the centre of the gags.
Otherwise, the show relies too much on the audience filling in the gaps in the shaky script with some adoring cheers.
Let’s hope they’re just storing up the best bits for series four.
What did you think of the show? Have your say.
The Mighty Boosh are at the Apollo until Thursday, December 4, £25 (some shows sold out). Then Friday, December 5, Saturday, December 6 and Tuesday, December 23 at the M.E.N. Arena, also £25. Call 0844 847 8000.
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