The Dirty Old Folkers Present – Cinderella @ Hare & Hounds, 22nd December 2011
Blundering yet ever more confused in to the second decade of the third millennium we can, at least, allow ourselves a moment or two of sage reflection. Given that, Dave -’You’re all in this shit together’- Cameron’s emasculated poodle Brit grit spirit saw both cheese-eating surrender monkey Johnny Frog and the Euro-porn gluttonous Krauts given a right good bloody nose – why is it still legally sanctioned that Simon Cowell can sexually reproduce? Or that the BBC licence-payers’ money isn’t better spent providing ever further opportunities for Jeremy Clarkson to immerse his ego in the choking publicity of a carbon monoxide fume filled sink-estate lock-up?
Nevertheless, it is the season of goodwill and far be it from The Dirty Old Folkers‘ political agenda to assume the role of Marley’s ghost and skewer the conscience of a bonus bloated City trader or Middle-East junta tear-gas suppliers.
Oh, and by the way, if you’re savoring a respite from the season’s piped musak-cack in Sainsbury’s it’s because I collared a floor-manager and complained. He apologised if there was any inconvenience on my part and explained he had no input on the matter it being corporate policy. I pointed out to him that the same line of reasoning was prevalent at Lehman Brothers as they gainfully off-loaded sub-prime collateral debt obligations. He said he’d look in to it.
And so, in the spirit of ‘Inappropriate Folk’ alt.Yule-Tide seasonal bonhomie The Dirty Old Folkers, with their agit-prop urban altruism, robust political incorrectness and an ambiguous post-feminist agenda, presented their theatrically challenging take on Cinderella.
Although, as events unfolded alongside the ubiquitous panda/Death dumb-show, it was more a case of ‘In-to-Stella’ as their thespian aesthetic celebrated a frankly frightening Jason Ensa as a David Bowie thonged ginger-themed Fairy Godfather. You really didn’t want to be there. Now, my Panto-plot recall maybe a bit rusty but I certainly don’t recollect either Anita Harris or Bonnie Langford snorting a line of Colombian nose-candy as a pre-Ball aperitif. The Drag-on Ugly Sisters did things with radio mics they were never intended for. Cinders (the impossibly beautiful, Heaven-scented violinist, Hannah Lawson) transformed in to an X-Factor tone-deaf contestant from Hell whilst a not so innocent young Sol Caley, as Buttons, dis-communicated in obscene Spoonerisms. The rest of the cast must remain incognito for reasons legal, hygienic and just plain decency.
We had jolly holly-berried sing-alongs and raffle prizes generously donated by local businesses, all proceeds going to The Jerico Foundation based in Birmingham’s Balsall Heath and Nechells supporting the disadvantaged.
The evening closed with deliciously acidic, irony-laden, hoe-down Billy-Celt swing. Let’s just say a Tolkienesque parody of Bonus whores with Death & Panda having a ruck to a ‘War Pigs’ freeze-frame mime was enough to have made Gengis Khan (also featured) blush at the Health & Safety implications.
Setlist: Carols, men in tights, prizes, Coalition-baiting.
Review – John Kennedy
Photos – Wayne Fox