Thursday 18 October 2012

Vile versus Eric at Stereo (part 2)


EK: Focus, man! Burlesque dancer on the stage! Crowd cheering, guys whistling... typical, I guess. But then, you're tired of nudity on stage, aren't you? And the crowd quickly disperses...

GKV: Yes. That's why I am off for a coffee. And keeping you typing so you are not corrupted by Miss Hell's Belle's striptease.

EK: Well, it's over now. What to do. Not my fault I get excited by these things... Although admittedly, it's more fun in the intimacy of a bedroom. I can see why you tire of the nude on stage - what is the joy of that?
And Derek McLuckie takes the stage.
Extremely poetic narration ensues. It doesn't always rhyme, but he is telling us a story that sounds like a dream. Or a nightmare.
'Machine gun rattles, old woman cackles...'

GKV: It's exciting to see McLuckie going solo... dressed up as a fireman, then one quick change and he's an American starlet in 1952. He's trawling through the glamorous era of  Hollywood. An abortive romance with Steve McQueen is told in a thick Glasgow accent. Then the last days of Marilyn Monroe recited in the voice of a jaded friend of the sex goddess.

It's even better as a juxtaposition - a queer balance upsetting what could have been a rather macho evening of blues rock and striptease. McLuckie is relating a memory of an orgy starring Jack Kennedy, in drag, but the surreal narrative is contrasted by the specificity of the detail. The crowd is silent - my typing is the loudest sound and I am feeling self-conscious.

EK: And we are back to the thick Glaswegian accent, to the rhyming. And he slips into a clearer accent, almost like Dracula.
 'Jealousy is mine'
Commercial break.
Advertising a doll  of Judy Garland - the 'perfect gift for young queens everywhere'. I wonder how many layers of meaning we have to unpeel to thoroughly understand this performance.

GKV: He's jumping between different moods - sometimes singing, other times getting vernacular and even poetic. There's a theme of disappointment and twisted romance throughout... he refers back to classic camp icons, that feminine glamour of Monroe, the ballet dancer, Judy Garland, filters them  through the alienation of a very Glaswegian nightlife. There are corpses littered through the monologue.
EK: And now he speaks of Camp, a wrinkly old lady seducing young men. The audience hangs on his every word. He speaks of elderly masturbation, and 'entertainment'. Not sure what to make of that.

GKV: He's good. He has a presence, and it's fascinating to see him stripped of scripts and props and theatrical supports.

EK: His energy reminds me of the solo performance titled TITUS at THAT Festival, part of a very young, adrenaline-filled triple bill. There was no need for him to move at all, because he tells a story so well.

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