Review: Bourgeois and Maurice Are A Technicolor Riot In Pleasure Seekers

"It's not always clear what our songs are about," smirks Maurice, after walloping out a three-minute number about buying crap off Amazon, waltzing around the stage with a mountain of parcels.

'Subtle' isn't in Bourgeois and Maurice's dictionary; from their glow-in-the-dark leotards, to a stage piñata the size of an actual donkey, the spangly twosome's latest outing Pleasure Seekers is a riotous Technicolor jolly from soup to nuts. If you could trip on Skittles, this is what it'd be like.

On their pleasure-seeking quest, in which they grapple to ditch cynicism via the medium of song and dance, the two come up against the baffling Metaverse, an amassing army of evil babies and the temptations of the flesh faced by righteous vegans (i.e. sausages). Each number is a piping hot slice of pop, served with lashings of wit and a liberal sprinkling of surrealism; just what the doctor ordered in these grave times.

What shows the two have really hit their stride after 15 years together, though, comes during a distinctly unglitzy 'tea break.' "How was your lockdown?" asks Bourgeois, as she nonchalantly dips the teabag in water. To which Maurice replies (something along the lines of): "I stayed in for two years, watched bad TV, ate revolting food. I think I turned heterosexual."

Thank god these two weirdoes are back in their natural habitat.

Bourgeois & Maurice: Pleasure Seekers, Soho Theatre, tickets from £12, until 30 April