Apparently, more accidents happen in the bathroom than any other place in the home, but the eight-piece ensemble behind SOAP could care less. Performed in, out and over five bath tubs (claw footed to spa-luxury moderne), SOAP’s hour and a half gig is a tight meld of contemporary circus, dance, opera and classic clowning that’s funny, clever, thrilling, beautiful and unabashedly sexy.
Big props to Maree Andree Lemaire, the retro-sweet squeaking and growling clown hostess. Lemaire can turn from cute to psycho on a five cent piece, and the illusion which sees her stretch beyond the realms of possibility in the bath provokes cheek-hurting laughter.
The set is David Lynch-y: super glamorous in the style of a ’50s Vegas cabaret show and surreal, what with the tubs and all, the sense of which is only compounded by the addition of an opera singer. As a compatriot noted, everything becomes instantly more dramatic and classy when there’s an opera singer. Her rehash of Bobby Darin’s fifties classic ‘Splish, Splish’ as opera was unexpected and funny.
That said, the main event was the circus. The modern-spin on Chinese foot juggling with bathing accoutrements including towels, face washers and giant cakes of soap was a jaw dropper. The juggler’s multi-ball rebounding and quick change act on top of an upended bath tub set to a funk soundtrack was sleek, impressive and fun.
Then there were the aerial acts, pretty much all of which were hawt. Muscles, water and what not steamed the bathroom right up, without being gauche. The fella using straps to suspend and plunge himself into the bath was mesmerising, as was the trapeze act performed ostensibly in onstage rain. Rain always sounds nice and you could hear it patter on the stage floor, while the aerialist swished through it. The other striking element is that these acts are properly risky at the best of times, but when you factor in water and props like bath tubs the level of risk and requisite talent increases exponentially. SOAP is a marvel and a laugh.
By Meg Crawford
