Sh*t Actually

Norwich Arts Centre favourites Rebecca Biscuit and Lousie Mothersole (aka Sh!t Theatre), returned last night with the first of their two Yuletide shows, with which they celebrate both the best Christmas movie of all time, and also the worst. Wednesday sees the return of their brilliant 'Sing-Along-A Muppet Christmas Carol’ – and, let's be honest, Christmas just isn't Christmas without our annual binge-out on Kermit, Miss Piggy and her mates. It will be the fourth year that this has been presented at Norwich Arts Centre, and it has sold-out yet again.
 
However, Tuesday night was our chance to pick over the half-gobbled carcass of Richard Curtis' 2003 Christmas-themed romantic comedy, 'Love Actually'. Or, as Rebecca and Louise would have us call it, 'Sh!t Actually'. And, in so doing, and acting as our guides and cavilers throughout all the inter-course shenanigans of this octopus-like Christmas feast, they open our eyes to the real meaning of love, and the true reasons for getting bladdered on Baileys each and every December.
 
Because, for all their on-stage shambolism and mashed-up video clips, Sh!t Theatre provide a brave and crusading mantra with every one of their projects. Whether that be highlighting the activities of rogue landlords in London ('Letters to Windsor House'), the life-work balance between fertility and mortality ('Dollywould'), or the dark world of transporting refugees across the Mediterranean ('Sh!t Theatre Drink Rum with Expats'), Rebecca and Loiuse's anarchic slapstick routines always pack a powerful punch.
 
And so it is with 'Sh!t Actually'. The duo may joke and jape their way through the movie, goading us to greet Colin Firth's every on-screen appearance with cries of “Bonjour Colin!”, or to raise a cheer of “Merry Christmas” as each of the film's ensemble of romances falls neatly into place. But, behind the bravado and the bonhomie lies a concerted and subversive agenda, nibbling away at the shallowness of the movie's plotline, and exposing its inexcusable use of female stereotyping and objectification. Sh!t Theatre's counter-attack therefore includes strategically inserted gay-porn video-clips, and their own ironically nonchalant display of gratuitous stage nudity. Hence the 14+ age guideline.
 
Enjoy 'Sh!t Actually' on whatever level you wish, but for me it crafted elements of comedy, pantomime and parody, and delivered them as a yuletide hamper filled with both irreverence and affection. It sent us away with important (and still relevant) messages upon which to cogitate. And it also introduced me to scenes in the film that I had previously missed (the juggler in the office); allowed me to share in Andrew Lincoln’s hilarious coat-wearing conundrum; and to ponder the merits and demerits of Alan Rickman’s Broom Head charity foundation.
 
Now, let’s bring on The Muppets!!!