Circus Shop of Horrors: at the late night, double feature, picture show at the Fringe
11 Jul 2018

by Drew Rowsome -

If only there were midnight slots at the Toronto Fringe Festival. Circus Shop of Horrors would be a natural, make that unnatural, fit. In the dead of night, after a libation or two, it would be a hilarious and hair-raising experience. As some of the cast and creatives have cut their fangs haunting the Halloween circuit - there are Screemers and Legends of Horror alumni - the magical pre-Halloween season would be a perfect time for a return extended run.

Circus Shop of Horrors is frighteningly ambitious mash-up of dance, theatre, circus, drag and magic. An homage to the great horror and camp classics, it skithers along in a revue format using the rough framing device of:

It's dusk. Your car breaks down on an abandoned forest road, far away from home. Far away from the nearest phone. But there's a cabin up ahead, with smoke spiralling from the chimney, and a light scent of fresh-baked cookies wafting out the windows. A lucky place to spend the night or make a phone call? Not if you're in a '90s horror movie...

That also happens to be the opening plot points of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and Circus Shop of Horrors brazenly steals its opening numbers from the venerable classic. The twist is that Frank-N-Furter's mascaraed mug has been replaced with Pennywise's greasepaint smile in the first knowing riff on horror lore, and the time warp dancers are a chorus line of serial killers: Freddy, Jason, et al. It is irresistible, and Daniel Bowen churns up a sexy storm as Frank-N-Furter/Pennywise, flashing his titillatingly hairy chest and high-kicking to the outer limits of his fishnets.

Kiriana Stanton is the hapless lost soul who has wandered in and her double takes at being invited to "do the time warp again" are priceless. Unfortunately she is not given anywhere else to go with the character who morphs from narrator to victim to gleeful participant to a vengeful Buffy. And that is the problem with the entire production, though tightly choreographed to flow, it never decides just what it wants to do or where it is going. It may be '90s horror riffs but it is '70s television variety show logic and hoary gags.

Fortunately the individual acts include some spectacular ones. Magician Ryan Brown is Dr Frankenstein and he plunges swords into the Bride of Frankenstein who then rejects the lust-crazed monster of Frankenstein (Bowen again as a graceful giant) for more sapphic inclinations. Melissa Young does a Linda Blair contortionist routine that flows into another trick/gag from Brown. And Zel Tyrant has a remarkable aerial act using chains instead of silks that ends with a visual that earned stunned silence and then wild applause. Brown, as he did at the Something Strange Circus Sideshow Festival, astounds with his feats of sleight of hand and his sardonic showmanship.

A little more daring would have added oomph. Circus Shop of Horrors has a warning of "graphic violence," but little blood is spilled. A burlesque act honouring Psycho is deliciously tantalizing and creepy but ends abruptly, coitus and shower interruptus, with an incomprehensible gag when Mother (Bowen again but with full Anthony Perkins-esque twitchy sexual ambiguity) arrives. The music plays a large role in Circus Shop of Horrors, everyone sits up when Bernard Hermann's violins begin to shriek, or Mike Oldfield's minimalist melodic menace lingers, or Danny Elfman's symphonic pop marches in. Those sonic landscapes are so much a part of the horror film experience that they instantly conjure a mood, not quite humming along but more flesh crawling, that is situated precariously and delightfully between horror and hilarity.

If only the sound cues had arrived on time and with emphasis. It must be difficult with so many props, so much rigging, and so many costume changes (Bowen also plays Carrie), to keep the show in sync. There are multiple exits and entrances and director/choreographer/writer Justine Cargo works hard to keep the action smooth, but it occasionally lags or stutters and the spell is broken. Circus Shop of Horrors is conceptually clever, wonderfully designed (the costumes are both oddly casual and spectacular), and entertaining throughout. With a few more shows under their belts, or with a midnight slot, audiences will exit the suitably spooky Annex Theatre with a chill running up their spine as well as a knowing smirk.