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The brown word: Death on the Throne @gatehouselondon

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We’re warned at the start of the show with an upbeat number that this is not the usual sort of musical. And it turns out to be just that. But with boundless enthusiasm and energy from its two leads, who deploy a range of voices and breathtaking energy to create a series of voices for puppet characters, a bedtime story becomes a silly oddball tale about four souls stuck in purgatory. With puppets. And various toilet humour references. It’s currently playing at Upstairs At The Gatehouse . The piece starts as a bedtime story. Daddy (Mark Underwood) is about to read a bedtime story for Louise (Sarah Louise Hughes). But her stomach felt funny, and soon, she went to the bathroom. Then, for reasons that seem to only make sense in the confines of the show, they start telling the story of four people who died in unfortunate circumstances in the bathroom. Depicted as puppets, they’re stuck in purgatory as St Peter doesn’t have enough space for each of them in the afterlife. And so begins a puppe...

Cabaret: Topping and Butch

I caught Topping and Butch Friday night at Central Station which is in N1 and a long way from SW4 (as I found out catching the night bus home). Still, it is good to get out and see the city, even if it is at 2am...

But back to Topping and Butch. They have been getting better (and ruder) since I last saw them at the Soho Theatre and Comedy Camp two years ago. They were also trying out bits of their new show they are taking to Edinburgh Fringe next month. Their show is basically a mix of jokes about current affairs, other topical issues and smut. Naturally at a gay bar this goes down like a treat.

As I was sitting in a comfortable leather lounge suite watching the show I was also a target for their banter, but fortunately for me they were gentle (my name was only referred to a few times during the show).  This was far less confronting than when I arrived at the venue and was greeted at the door by a lady who asked me if I was there for Club Fukk. That caused me to pause for a moment. "I might be," I told her. As she went through a list of email addresses that she had on a sheet of paper I then realised I had been instructed to walk through to the main bar and not go to some basement. This was rather fortunate my memory came back to me at this point as I was later informed the club was for ladies who like to wear strap on devices for fun. Apparently men go down there as well, but I had a sneaking suspicion it wasn't going to be my cup of tea…

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