Mr Blackpool REVIEW by Hannah Burdess
(Every artist recognises how I’m inclined to start this) Here I sit… Writing on the Avanti again - Like the golden days of Coconut Water Travel Writing when I was mad that my solo travels were taking me through a train station, marking a part of my history I swore I wouldn’t come back through. Mr Blackpool was reminded me why the journey is worth it and why Blackpool is always worth coming home to.
My era of creative college and HE+ graduates embodied the trend of moving to the big city to ‘make it’ if you had the ambition, a certainty as sure as computer programming ‘if’ clauses, but last night’s celebration of Blackpool and it’s queer folk in all their glory encouraged a kind of wide teary eye looking up at the sparkles of the stage that hit to my Sandgrown creative core, and confirmed that these two sides of my life are safe to be seen and held here. I’ve never hugged so much In one after-party, full heart-to-heart connection that embodies everything Blackpool is about and shown throughout each section of the spectacular. Nothing held in between to stop the love getting through.
The show featured Harry Clayton-Wright as Showgirl Ringmaster Emcee supreme alongside the North’s favourite Lesbian landlady legends, Aysh and Sam de Belle celebrating Blackpool’s performance history that they actively form as a 9-5. 9-9. 24/7 these lot. Blake Rainey joined for the Homecoming performance; he grew up performing on the piers, and is now flying off to study performance in London, He flew up with a laddy, pint-chugging and balancing, Arctic Monkeys entrance that felt like every good memory I can actually remember with double the energy. So many aspects of Blackpool and Northern Culture were held in hearts and on-stage with 100%, a culture that has been overwhelmed with pejoratives and flag brandishing and f+g bashing. But how beautiful is it that a performance can hold all of these true experiences in one big universal shimmer of pride! The show serves as a reminder that our shared experience is our heritage, and that is exactly and actively what we form it to be.
Mr Blackpool rounded up the show with a story of a Tower Circus Lion mauling a worker in the 20th century. A caged creature lashing out, rightfully so, but with misdirected anger. I don’t think I will look at a 3 Lions badge again without thinking of Harry’s analogy. A camp Brechtian twist on Moment of Realisation, where Gestus and Pastiches connect to every bold and OTT experience that makes Blackpool so diverse and special. The amount of work and dedication that it takes to hold the experiences in a way that resonates with every single audience member felt semi-religious. As did Aysh and Sam’s reminder of 2000s bandeau dresses showing Primark thong when the lights came on. As did having Millie B MtotheB closing the night.
Performances like this feel even more important at the moment as Blackpool is up for City Of Culture, and Mr Blackpool displays that culture in a raw and honest glory. From magic to pier trick, showgirls and breakdance, drag and lads, anything goes in Blackpool, and no one would argue with that. So many cultures intersect and make up a universal experience that is so unique it becomes it’s own culture. With so much division, the show was a reminder of how this all fits together whether it wants to or not in Blackpool; I kept repeating on the night that I wish the show had existed before I made the decision to move countries to pursue a creative career. The work these people are doing negates the pre-destined fate of northern creatives having to leave to ‘do something’ with their lives. It’s been increasingly true for years but now is a really exciting and necessary time for it to be made more obvious, which City of Culture would give an opportunity to celebrate further.
My feet hurt but I have twirled and I am free. Thank you for the sparkles. The laughs, the tears, the memories, the pride. I haven’t always, but I do love Blackpool.
