Big Bruvva: The Musical

As our favourite troubled heroine, Davina tells us, there is only one word to describe Big Bruvva – The Musical:

“Ohmygod!”

It is very seldom possible, still less desirable to dub a show “deliciously camp,” but with a production that defies this maxim to the very base of its shallow and remorseless soul, the creators of Big Bruvva have brought a triumph of gloss-over-matter to the Fringe.

The generic recipe for any reality TV satire has been slavishly adhered to here: there’s the dappy one, the posh one, the scary one, the chavy one, all characterised to perfection. But whilst a stand-up comic would get heckled for such unimaginative typecasting, the form of the musical somehow allows this simplicity to create a pantomime of lusciously exaggerated proportions.

It is perhaps with the song, 'Dance, Monkey! Dance!' or the agreeable little number, 'I’m a his and hermaphrodite' that you will be persuaded to pierce the rotten core of this vice of a musical. But once due notice has been taken of the inspired lyric: "I’m stupid…very stupid! There are even some Americans who are cleverer than me," none will be capable of extricating themselves from the depths of cheesy depravity into which this show descends.

Perhaps today’s audience took Davina’s order to “watch and try not to learn” a little too much to heart, but for anyone who wants a bit of risqué, end-of-the-pier fun to deaden a few unwanted brain cells, this show is the perfect distraction.