The Long Pigs
It promises cannibal clowns and that’s exactly what it delivers.
Overview
Argh! Cannibals! Aargh! Clowns! Both of these things are horrible, who thought it would be a good idea to make a show that combines them? And why did I think it would be a good idea to see it?
It’s not like it didn’t give due warning. The show’s name stems from the phrase 'long pig' — said to be the euphemism Polynesian cannibals used for human flesh — and every poster for the show has leering clown faces on it. It promises cannibal clowns and that’s exactly what it delivers. Three of them in fact, in butcher’s garb, with their clown noses black instead of the usual red. They scuttle round a murky stage, squabbling as they alternate between processing cannibal meat — in this context, red clown noses — and performing slightly warped versions of traditional clown acts.
Despite the grotesque possibilities of the premise, the show is actually quite pedestrian. The cannibal theme has little bearing on the action for most of it, apart from informing the overall gloomy aesthetic and bleak energy-sapping soundtrack. Those expecting something visceral will not find it here. Nor is the clowning anything out of the ordinary, dependent on a familiar repertoire of slapstick, squeaky noses, silly sound effects, novelty size props and goofy facial expressions. There’s a lot of what you might call 'silly business': trivial onstage activity that looks quirky but doesn’t really advance anything.
There are a few decent visual set pieces, such as a scene where a clown gives birth to a banana or one in which the trio briefly try to reclaim the persona of happy clowns in inflatable suits but find their dream literally deflating around them. They also get a bit of audience mileage with an extended parody of the crucifixion — though why cannibal clowns are being analogised to Jesus is anyone’s guess. One gets the feeling that there is a message intended here, about the tarnishing of the once jolly image of the clown into an icon of horror, or of people striving against their base natures or something of that order. It doesn’t come across though. The stronger visual scenes are disconnected without enough to tie them together and overall the show achieves neither the horror nor the poignancy it seems to be aiming for.
It does seem to get enough laughs from the audience, so clearly the old bag of clown tricks still works for some. If seeing someone getting hit repeatedly on the head with a comically large hammer sounds like a good time to you, then you may well eat this show up as there’s plenty of that kind of thing. For me, the outlandish premise calls for something more adventurous in terms of comedy and dressing up stale gags in cannibal makeup doesn’t make them fresher.
I would not have thought cannibal clowns could be anything other than horrible but it turns out they can in fact be simply dreary. Less "argh", more “ehh.”
