Considering it was a filthy night in late November with rain whooshing off the sea in bucketfuls, this Cornish-born variety show almost filled the theatre and seemed to convince its audience they really were at the Copacabana supping bourbon.
Which was strange - because song/dance/illusion entertainment like this is usually associated with cruise ships, hotels and Butlins rather than live theatre 6,000 miles from Nevada.
Conceived and assembled by director/producer Martyn Lucas from his home near Truro, the evening is his salute to befeathered showgirls and big numbers, interspersed with Daniel Dean’s (one time British Champion of Illusion) disappearing bodies.
Martyn has worked as a singer/musician for many years and his new single has just been released. He once appeared on ITV’s Stars in Their Eyes and this perhaps gives the clue to his need on stage to leech other people’s style.
If he stopped being an amalgam of Frank Sinatra, Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond, he might find a new and wonderful musical self that needs no sparkly waistcoats or bruising sound system to bring him alive.
He can certainly sing but where were the diminuendos, rhythmic precision, careful tone and cadence in the songs he assailed us with during two thirds of this show?
And where was the timing that should have kept the Vegas showgirls synchronised as they flashed and glittered through some wobbly routines?
Without Daniel Dean’s professionalism and Zara Mason’s beautiful Bojangles solo, the evening could have foundered. But this is only its eleventh performance. It might evolve.
Production information can change over the run of the show.
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