Missy Lorelei finds the Tron's summer production to be lacking a few too many spices.
The societal role of men is a modern day theme fast becoming as ubiquitous in theatre as Palestine or sex trafficking, but this take is obviously far more tongue-in-cheek: the title is not exactly indicative of thought-provoking satire, but it does promise much.
Mick Cooke, trumpet player with Glasgow-based indie favourites Belle and Sebastian, has collaborated with writers Gordon Davidson and Alan Wilkinson on this musical comedy about two daft young men in a Day-Glo dystopian future who are avoiding castration on an overcrowded Earth by travelling to Mars, lured by the promise of sleeping with sexy alien chicks.
The results, sadly, are somewhat mixed.
There are some worthwhile moments. The barbed humour, referencing Scotland's useless football team and bad diet, often works and some of the songs, notably the title track with its big harmonies in the chorus, are catchy and memorable. The band, all decked out as superheroes, are fabulous.
Kenny Miller's design, full of acid bright Space Barbie colours, is fine and the special effects are delightful—who doesn't love to watch dance routines featuring blood-letting?
Cheeky Darren Brownlie, who also does the choreography, is always a trooper and camps it up beautifully as Largs Lido. His best friend Jaxxon McGhee (Mark Prendergast) is also fine, matching him in broad idiocy.
Yet something is missing—a cohesive tone: it all feels like too many styles and ideas jostling for supremacy: is it a 60s exploitation flick parody? Sci-fi? Panto? None of the characters really fit, although Gavin Mitchell's shape-shifting President of Earth is ingeniously written, showing Mitchell's full acting and vocal scope. His high-stepping I'm An Evil Bastard is a real highlight, putting the Glee into gleefully sadistic. Marj Howarth's Queen should be the focal point, and she is feisty enough, but is upstaged by a terrific, vulnerable yet headstrong Fiona Wood as her youngest daughter Princess Yasmin, who has her big Lloyd-Weber moment with ballad I Don't Want to Eat You.
All in all Cannibal Women just isn't kitsch or cartoonish enough and, like the reluctant cannibal Princess Yasmin, acts too polite by half to be naughty. The Kielty Brothers would have made mincemeat of this.
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