My mother used to collect lame ducks. Or at least that’s what my father said. About the friends she made. Lame ducks, he’d say, the lot of them. My mother would just bite her tongue. And seethe. And care for her lame ducks.
Now she grows fruit: mangoes; apples; oranges. Her two gay sons. And, oddly enough, it’s her birthday today. She’s of a particular generation now, just like Candy Chambers (C.C.) – star of last night’s Connections Nightclub Fringe World show, Candy Chambers: 50 Forever – is off a particular generation in regard to the GLBTIQ community. Although I don’t think it’s C.C.’s birthday today.
But her show last night reminded me of my mum, oddly enough. It was part lame duck, part bananas and a whole heap of fabulous old lady who could squarely kick you in the nuts if it was needed. Not that either of them have, done or will…hopefully.
Seriously though, C.C. sashayed that stage in super-gay 60 foot woman style. Wait, no, she was like a giant neon citrus fruit. Her presence was electric to the eyes, yet sultry on the lobes. She’s old world fruit, the kind that you get halftime during a soccer match to make you look like you have scary monster teeth. Not that she is. A monster. Nor scary. But she is big. She’s very very big.
So are her tales. But they still diminish in the presence of C.C.’s most undeniable ginormous talent: her ability to make her audience do a conga line. I haven’t seen this kinda Old World enthusiasm to get up and gogo since…well…the Old World. England to be exact. Although C.C.’s Old World is the United States of America. Where C.C. gave birth to Elvis. And other great big whooping lies. All told in the most fabulous taste. Apparently.
What rocks in this show are the rocking tunes. C.C. can not only conga, but she can do a ditty so it’s very very pretty. Her band, The Freckles, help immensely. Both on the ears and the eyes. And they hold C.C.’s mad old bat banter in perfect time to the beat, rolling their eyes at her tall tales. Basically, it’s all just cute kitsch fun for your mum…and gay dad.
It is cabaret after all. But under the Connections fibre optic swirling pom poms and constellation of fabulous mirror balls, it reaches a heady, modern height. Here, in technicolour, the club creates a brilliant juxt against Candy Chambers: 50 Forever, in one instance the show gesturing at where we’ve come from and Connies gesturing at where we’re now going…and how fabulous we’re gonna look doing so.
This show will appeal to people of a particular generation. Those old ducks out there – some lame, some giant fruit –will adore this mash of old pop classics and staggering stage presence. In fact, if C.C. were a Perthonality, she’d be like Nanna Neill…and in fact, that’s exactly the age demographic to whom this show will appeal. Unless you like your Old Hollywood glamour. In which case, sorry, even I think you’re strange.
So while the old dears check out the rousing night that Candy Chambers: 50 Forever delivers with conga and delight, I might just hang back with the kids and wait for the club to open. And hey, do you mind if I bring my mother? She won’t get in the way, I promise. But I can’t vouch for C.C.: that queen is so big she lights up the stage. And that’s just with her outfit. But honestly, you can’t miss this lame duck.
Candy Chambers: 50 Forever is at Connections Nightclub as part of Fringe World, remaining shows 8pm Friday 14 and Saturday 15 of February.
Scott-Patrick Mitchell
