Nosferatu. Etcetera Theatre.

There is a long history of theatre and film that lampoons the camp, melodramatic (almost operatic) excesses of Bram Stoker’s gothic masterwork Dracula. From the 1969 Broadway spoof Fangs Ain’t What They Used to Be, to TV’s current What We Do in the Shadows, the novel has been milked for as much comic effect as any other in literary history. It takes a valiant writer to try adding something new to the genre. Hats off to Henry Charnock and his cast for their effort. Sadly, Nosferatu, which aims to be a satirical drag take on the 1922 expressionist cinematic masterpiece of the same name, fails terribly. A solid dose of humour is the sine qua non for a successful parody. Charnock’s version of Nosferatu falls badly at the first hurdle because it is just not very funny.

The gender reversal sees drag king versions of Doctor Van Helsing (Aimee Hislop) and estate agent Philip Hutter (Eleanor Homer), play alongside Charnock as Margaret Hutter, the latter sporting a Movember moustache and pleasingly bedecked in a flattering white summer dress. The fourth cast member, Sam Leaver, has the best of the evening as the vampiric Count Orlok. The set-up is funny for about 5 minutes, but then there is the question of what to do with the remaining 55-minutes of a decidedly overlong show.

Charnock answers the question with a mixture of unsubtle and derivative mime, jokes that aim at being risqué but feel like they originate in cinema’s Carry on Screaming (gags about pearl necklaces and ‘pegging’ Orlok with a wooden cross among the least lamentable) and drag versions of a couple of pop hits. When the funniest thing in a show is a performer miming to The Divinyls’ I Touch Myself wearing someone else’s boxer shorts, it gives an indication of what to expect from the show as a whole. The production blurb suggests, by way of explanation, that the boxer shorts are an homage to the scene in Risky Business where Tom Cruise dances around in his underwear. You would never know.

There is one other joke set up at the beginning of the show. A punchline of sorts is duly delivered at the end of the show. The actors repeat the punchline not once, but twice. Perhaps this is in deference to the old quip about buses coming all at once, or perhaps they think their audience might have nodded off in the intervening hour (a reasonable assumption). It is that kind of production. Thin gruel indeed.

Writer and Director: Henry Charnock

26 October 2022

Duration: 60 minutes, no interval.

This Review First Appeared in The Reviews Hub