Thinking that I was likely to be in Spain still, I initially had to turn down the annual approach from the Leicester Mercury to review some shows as part of the Leicester Comedy festival.
But, with the sudden change of plans, I got in touch with them asking if I could be their reserve weekend reviewer. The initial reviewer dropped out of seeing Flo & Joan at Curve and I stepped up to the plate. Here’s my pre-edited words that were probably printed in yesterday’s paper…
Flo and Joan must be pinching themselves. Worthy recipients of the Comedy Festival award for ‘best musical-comedy act’ in 2018, they’re no longer destined to be playing small rooms in pubs. Here they are playing Curve’s main theatre on a weekend night. “We were a bit nervous about the upgrade”, the quirky sisters confess towards the end of their ninety minute set of two halves.
But they needn’t have worried. In many ways, their precise and professional performance style is ideal for Curve’s County-set, venturing out of their Harborough and Hinckley enclaves to chuckle and occasionally whoop at the songs on offer. Flo, bespectacled and healthily geeky, mostly perches behind her keyboard uttering dry quips whilst Joan, seemingly the more confident of the two, is left to do the audience interaction bits whilst playing a mini-castanet at her seat. Both harmonise and pronounce exquisitely. Even when their songs aren’t pant-wettingly funny, there’s enough delight to be found in just listening to their music.
Fortunately, this is a show where the laughs are plentiful. Newer material is delivered in the longer first half, a fine mix of gentle observational stuff and story-telling yarn. The audience can’t help but marvel as the tongue-twisting tale of ‘Carol, the cracker packer’ is despatched with crisp confidence. Many moan with personal insight as depressing stats about divorce are reeled off in the wedding song. Things really sparkle as the end of the first half looms and, in an effort to prove how cool and contemporary musical comedy can be, the girls get all jazzy on their resplendent array of recorders.
The shorter second half is filled with back-catalogue classics. The sisters ponder politely how they would kill their sibling before noting the importance of bees for human existence in a funky track that must surely have drawn influence from The Flight Of The Conchords.
As the show draws to a close, we’re disappointed to discover that we’ve been a tad duped by Nicola and Rosie. Flo and Joan are not their real names but rather the names of grandparents. That disappointment though is short-lived as we’re taken on an English folk-homage, a luscious alliterative tale about Linda that grows like an old lady swallowing a fly into the highlight of the night for many.
Flo and Joan’s appeal is broad. There’s nothing niche about their precise, talent-laden comedy and you rather suspect that arena gigs could well be next on their trajectory. Those at Curve tonight have witnessed the start of that transition.