Review – An Audience With Tomás Ford
Tomás Ford is in a dressing gown on stage as you walk in, frantically working with an electronic flea circus in a roadcase. “I’m doing my own house music”, he says to the audience taking their seats. “This is not the show, the show is going to be great, but it hasn’t started yet.” He is sweating, he is anxious. The audience begins to take note of the exits.
If you like the idea of being the personal playthings of a cabaret catastrophe, ladies and gentlemen, this is your show. You will cringe, you will squirm. Then you will laugh, get wet, fall in love, trip out, and leave the venue reborn. You will have been infected by a dangerous man from Perth. I recommended this show to friends and wondered if I would regret it… cabaret is supposed to be bad and usually is; Tomás Ford is supposed to be catastrophic and is a supersonic dream-disaster. It would be fascinating to simply watch the man on his freak out if he didn’t find ways of involving you in the ribaldry, as each audience member will become accomplices to the strange acts, the profane musical births and deaths.
He looks a little like Phil Hartman, and he will take you on a wonderful journey inside his cramped and sparkling brain.
