Don Juan

How to describe this? Raunchy panto, dinner cabaret without dinner, a wholesome healthy, string of innuendo sausages? “Fun” probably says it best. A Slightly Isolated Dog’s Don Juan is involving right from the minute you step into the hall. And I mean involving literally. If you sit in the front row there’s a very high chance you will be involved whether you want to be or not.  If you don’t want to be involved, don’t make eye contact, don’t answer questions, don’t sit where they put you, otherwise you’ll find yourself the subject of an unrequited love match or a vengeful ex-girlfriend, or at the very least, being part of the action. Luckily the people selected for ritual audience participation humiliation were very good sports about it, although one stern older lady seemed to get a bit tired of being begged for her hand in marriage.

Don Juan is a very silly, amusing retelling of the folk story, all delivered in outrageously bad French accents (Don Juan being famously French)—which hides the fact that the group of clever, talented people is in fact from New Zealand. The show has some banging rock numbers, brilliantly co-ordinated slapstick and mime routines, and innuendo. Lots of innuendo. The jokes mostly hit the mark and the pace is frenetic.

If that whets your appetite, these guys have wrapped Don Juan at the Q, but they are doing their show Jekyll & Hyde in the same venue next week, and they’ll also be touring. Final verdict: lots of fun, best enjoyed with at least one glass of bubbly.

Cathy Bannister