Something my mother still talks about to this day is the fact that, as a child, I was absolutely obsessed with the 1997 children’s TV show Bear in the Big Blue House! If you are at all familiar with the show, you will know that every episode would end with Luna (pretty apt for this review) coming out and chatting to Bear about what happened throughout the episode. I viscerally remember being captivated by the fact that this omnipresent object was given the chance to share their thoughts. Following on from the aforementioned Luna in Bear in the Big Blue House, the infamous portrayal of the Moon in Killeroo, and the personification of the Moon in the hilarious “The Moon and Me” from The Addams Family, in her show Lunartic, Lucy Pearman answers the question: what would the Moon be like if they hosted their own intergalactic cabaret show?
Something particularly interesting about Lunartic is that it is told entirely from the perspective of Lucy Pearman, who takes on the role of the iconic Moon. Taking to the stage donning a wonderfully camp, shiny silver orb with the letters “The Moon” emblazoned across the back of the outfit, Lucy does a fantastic job of keeping the audience engaged and laughing throughout with a series of chaotic skits and sketches. However, it is not just Lucy who brings this show to life, as it contains ample amounts of audience participation, with those in attendance taking on a series of different characters throughout. One of the most prominent roles brought to life by a selected audience member was a sort of love interest who takes the long journey to meet the Moon, only to find out, after a wonderfully awkward and heartfelt duet, that the relationship is not working due to the long-distance nature of it all. This sequence contains a hilarious moment in which the audience member zip-wires to the Moon — initially portrayed through a doll, a dog lead, and a clothes hanger, and later by the person physically travelling the same route themselves. It will come as a surprise to literally no one that we also managed to find our way onto the stage after being selected to take on the role of a sort of stage manager (which is actually something we have done in real life previously), where we helped move props, dim lights, and most importantly, showcase the lyrics for a pantomime-style singalong in the closing moments of the show.
It is painfully obvious that, despite the show coming across as pure chaotic ramblings, Lucy had carefully thought through each moment on stage, as they found a way to cleverly intersperse a range of space-themed references throughout the show and, in particular, weave the lyrics of an iconic nursery rhyme into the performance without the audience instantly registering what was going on. In the opening moments of the show, Lucy hones in on an audience member to seemingly talk about their relationship, where they inform everyone that, if given the chance, they would run away to Iceland (which is brilliantly referenced later in the show via some traditionally Icelandic music), only for the solo performer to gawk over the viewer’s partner, calling them a dish who deserves a dish — and later, a spoon. There was also a brilliant sequence where the performer hands an audience member an unstrung fiddle (which, as a former strings musician, always gains bonus points from us) and a pair of cat ears to wear while they showcase their string-based “talents”. All these inclusions were cleverly tied together towards the end of the show, with Lucy reciting the lyrics of the famous nursery rhyme “Hey Diddle Diddle” as she nods to the seeds she had planted throughout — which was brilliant to watch.
As already mentioned, this show heavily relies on the energy of the audience, as Lucy makes the creative decision to use the people in attendance as stand-ins for the other planets in the solar system. This leads to a series of hilarious sketches regarding the Sun being very hot (an obvious reference to global warming), Saturn with its physical rings brought to life via a hula hoop, and Mercury being geographically and emotionally close to the Sun — which actually helps bring about the end of the show. What is incredibly clever about this production is the fact that the entire portrayal is constantly nudged along by a character we never physically see on stage. Throughout the show, the Moon receives a series of angry phone calls from the fictitiously jealous Sun, who is upset that the Moon is getting a solo show despite simply reflecting the light that they themselves create. In a classic theatre-style trope, the entire show comes to an end with a space-wide blackout which, in terms of the story, this “eclipse” is brought about by the aforementioned Sun as an accumulation of their jealousy. Not only does this inclusion highlight theatrical production elements, but it also makes sense from a narrative standpoint, having been cleverly built up throughout the whole show.
Overall, Lunartic by Lucy Pearman is a hilarious insight into what the ever-present Moon would be like if they had their very own cabaret show. As the name suggests, the production is pure chaotic fun, with enough scientific factoids to keep space-obsessed audience members hooked, while also having everyone laughing from the very moment Lucy steps onto the stage. I would rate this production 3.5 stars out of 5.
Rhysreviews 