11 April 2013

MICF musts: Bron, Telia and Slutmonster

What are you seeing at MICF tonight or Friday?

I mean,

THIS is what you are seeing at MICF tonight or Friday.

You're going to the Northcote Town Hall. There's a tram stop at the door (or it's easy to park) and if you're really lucky, the Taco Truck might be there for some in-between show nosh.

First show is Sweet Child of Mine at 7 pm with Melbourne contemporary artist Bron and her dad, Jim Batten.

I saw it at the 2011 Melbourne Fringe and loved it a lot. Read rave here. It's even better now. I didn't think I could love it more than I did the first time, but I do.

Maybe it's because now that Jim's performed over 20 times in Perth and Adelaide, he's become a total pro; he has some swish new dance moves and is loving the chance to improvise. I'm still not sure if he understands post-structuralism and how the chicken abortion dance speaks to us, though.

Really, I have no idea why this show isn't sold out.

If you're a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, sibling, cousin, friend, neighbour, workmate or vague acquaintance of an artist, you HAVE to see this.

And if your parents etc have ever come to your shows and told you how "special" you are, you need to make sure that they see it.

I tired to get my mum to see it in Adelaide, but no luck. And she doesn't read the blog because, "I don't understand it".

Next it's Poet Laureate Telia Nevile Live on Air at 9 pm.

At the 2012 Melbourne Fringe, I adored her so much that I wrote her a poem and I still stand by every rhyming couplet.

Again, why is this not sold out? My jaw ached from grinning and she's assured that I can't watch The West Wing without sniggering.

Your final show is Slutmonster and Friends at 10 pm

I've had some odd and inappropriate crushes on performers, but I don't know how anyone can resist Slutmonster's charms.

And by charms, I mean get a pump pack of lube, turn off your gag reflex and make sure you have some Ural sachets.

Slutmonster lives in a hand-painted colourful world that looks like a coral reef, but on second glance leaves you thinking you're in a page from of the super-gorgeous Pop-Up Karma Sutra, but it's more beautiful and delicate and so much sluttier – and fluro. Fluro!

It's here that two hero brothers sing gentle songs about being lost in a land where the tit trees bloom and the cock bushes sway in the wind, and they can't go back to the safety of their cave because one of them jizzed it up so much. Maybe an encounter with the local monster can save them?

With removeable teeth, blue skin, pink fur, cupcake tits and the cuddliest giant fluffy cock, Slutmonster wins libidos in an instant. I've never been so in lust with a monster – and I had a crush on Grover for a long time.

The show's a bit like Sesame Street doing porn with Annie Sprinkle, but so divinely filthy and wrong that it makes Avenue Q look like Disney on Ice and leaves most artistic commentary on gender relations and sexuality feeling as bland as the The Sound of Music.

Slutmonster and Friends is as wrong and depraved as anything can be, but made with an intelligence that leaves it's audiences making sounds that they usually keep hidden. I squeaked at one stage.

If you've never had a multiple laughgasm, this should do it.

PS. Can someone PLEASE go on a first date to this show.

There's a nice version of this on AussieTheatre.com.

And the great news is that Slutmonster runs until 20 April, but there's only two more chances to see this threesome.

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