Whether it was faking parents’ signatures on sick notes or choosing Hallowe’en costumes, Londonist has never been very good at pretending to be someone else which is why we’re glad we came across comedy night The Forgery Club and its collection of quality acts, each of which kicks the standard observational malarkey into touch and introduces us to a new side of themselves.
Compered by circuit regulars Moonfish Rhumba, we were introduced first to the very funny Marcel Lucont, urbane French philanderer with more gallic charm than a tray of free pains de chocolat. In Lucont’s world, it’s “France uber alles”: Sarkozy is better than Obama, Weston Super Mare has a superfluous word (guess which) and he questions Luxembourg’s existence with a pout and a sneer. German alpine skier and sexual superstar Flange Krammer (aka Neil Dagley) slaloms through some quickfire gags, all followed by his catchphrase (“eat my powder!”). Next act up, No Son of Mine, can be described as Steptoe and Son meets Peep Show as father and fils Don and Dennis Hazeley exchange barbed badinage.
After the interval, Sundance and Edinburgh favourite Rachel Stubbings introduces us to The Girl With The Mole Tattoo, a hopelessly optimistic young lady who tells her tale of woe in a deprecatingly deadpan manner. Last but definitely not least was Nathaniel Tapley as a posh MP on the stump. Fans of Tapley’s comedy/horror podcast saw a different side with the wannabe Member coming across as a contemporary Alan B’Stard, vociferously denying any wrongdoing on his own or party’s account before bursting into a song that brought back memories of Spitting Image at its finest.
The show ended with a song as Moonfish Rhumba donned dresses and wigs to entertain an idea entirely appropriate for the evening: “why can’t we be lesbians together?” And, as Barry Norman’s rubber alter ego was wont to say, why not?
All photos (c) Lisa Thomson.