THERE’S a strobe-lit chase sequence in Double Act that calls to mind why cinema used to be called the flicks.
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Pleasance Dome, Bristo Square
It’s also a fine symbol for this show, whose flashes of jollity flare up but then dissolve almost immediately, leaving one wistful for a longer exposure and more focused image.
Having said that, the entire rest of the audience was in stitches throughout this hour of sweet-natured goofing from Celeste Dring and Freya Parker.
There’s plenty of talent on view. Both can sing, tap dance, caper about and dish up a range of accents and silly voices that hops across continents and class divides. It’s clear they cannot be embarrassed and that’s entirely right and good.
For this is clowning with a capital C.
Logic’s out the window and the absurdity, when it works, is pure gee-whiz silliness, with just enough edge to escape being twee.
Skits include a talking dog dispensing love advice; a man who has been the subject of one too many laboratory experiments; a pair of redneck singers and a naughty reworking of Auden’s Funeral Blues.
One wishes, however, that they’d tone down the childish scatology.
Recurring jokes about incontinence and vomit aren’t all that funny.
Until 31 August