Who Frisky & Mannish’s School of Pop
What White-hot London neo-cabaret duo taking Edinburgh Fringe 09 by storm.
Why Frisky & Mannish arrive on stage like pop stars playing Wembley: spots circle the pitch black room, sirens wail, people clap and cheer. It's unreserved seating, and – unusually for a comedy show – the first through the door had bolted for the front. Every bit of space has been taken up with seats, and, when they don’t fit, small stools have been wedged in. Plenty more are standing. If the ceiling wasn't so low, I’m sure the girl next to me would have been on her boyfriend’s shoulders in a flash, waving a lighter.
This is F&M’s School of Pop, and the audience is raced through classes – Tudor foreign policy is examined through, of course, TLC’s ‘No Scrub’ done to the tune of Greensleeves – all the while looking at ‘the deeper meaning of pop classics’. Frisky plays the bossy school marm to perfection; Mannish, sporting fetching metallic tights, looks like the pretty one out of a Shoreditch boy band. Their ‘question’ medley is inspired – although the joke loses its punch when they ask if people get the references – and no one in the audience will be able to listen to Meatloaf again without hearing their paedo reworking of ‘I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won’t Do That)’.
Slick, polished and accessible feel-good stuff for anyone with a basic knowledge of pop music. Frisky & Mannish haven’t so much as arrived as been flown in by private jet as fully blown superstars. Simone Baird
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