The God of So-so, err Soho

Dear fab friends,

You know how I love the Shakespeare's Globe. It's a unique theatre with a unique space with unique new plays. So I recently ventured out and watched the experimental play 'The God of Soho' by Chris Hannan. There was a bright red neon sign "Heaven" hanging above the stage, and for a second I thought I was Under the Arches. From that moment on I had a feeling it will be camp!

And camp it is indeed! The show opens in heaven with a scene with the gods. The goddess of love, and sex, and beauty is banished to earth, and got mixed up in the lives of the homeless people in Soho. She finds an iconic 1950s Hermes-Kelly bag abandoned on the streets of Soho (what a find!) which contains a very dark secret which then led her to the publicity-hungry celebrity couple in Essex who can only enjoy sex if it involves pain.

The highlight perhaps of the show is the lively song-and-dance number from the cast called: "We are so shit." The audience loved it to bits, but that pretty much sums up the review of the show as well. I suppose the realization that we live in a world that worships sex, fame, brands and success is quite well-meaning, but somehow the script lacks that clarity or deeper insight.

And oh, be warned, there is abundance of naked flesh and fetish gear here (after all, the setting is in Soho!). Imagine my horror when the goddess of love, sex, and beauty stripped fully naked in the final scene! Yes, my dear bitches, her titties and fanny right in front of my face. Gasp!
Still recovering from the shock really.


Yours,

La Dolce Vita