Angels on Horseback in full gallop!
Yee-ha! We went to Angels on Horseback on Friday at On Broadway, and it rocked the house.
Angels is an original South African-tinged country and western cabaret fronted by the foxy ladies Candice D’Arcy and Fiona du Plooy, and backed up by Jamie Jupiter and Gene Kierman. Peter Hayes has his hands firmly on the directorial reins and has carved out a tight little show that soon has your toes a-tappin’ and thighs a-slappin’. Tales of heartbreak and regret might point the way to a gloomy evening, but the order of the night is emancipation and celebration. With tongues firmly planted in their cheeks, the gals let rip at species male and the results are hilarious, sardonic, camp, cheesy, and an all round jol!
This wasn’t my first time watching them, but man oh man have they stepped up a gear in terms of slickness, entertainment, and all round fun. Not that they sucked before, but they were testing out their stuff at Intimate Theatre and then at National Arts Festival. Now they are maturing, as one does during a sustained run, and they are transitioning from cult favourite to more of a mainstream success and I think it’s great.
All the classic songs are there - including Ode to Ryk Neetling and Oh Johannes and (what Brent Meersman calls the “sardonic almost southern spiritual”) Blood on my Hands. Personally I’d dig to see Goodbye Johnny You’re a Racist back in their set, but I know they’ve been juggling stuff around for the On Broadway run. This includes more covers (maybe to cater for the OB crowd?) - but luckily the covers include a rollicking barnstorming version of Texas Annie (AKAYou can’t buy a dildo in Texas) by The Wet Spots. I’d personally love the guys to cover Ween’s Piss Up a Rope, but hey - maybe there are boundaries after all.
Check out Megan’s review on Meganshead here, or Zane Henry’s Argus review here.
Rock on for the last week, gals and guys!
