Did you hear? Fox and Lark are having a party, and the whole street is invited (well, nearly, so don’t post photos to Facebook). Welcome to the suburbs. The washing is dried and folded, the hills hoist is strung with bunting, and Fox and Lark, also known as Catherine Crowley and Juliet Moody, are apron-donned and ready to go. After welcoming their audience with some neighbourhood gossip (‘how was your trip, girls?’ Fox asked, perching herself beside us) the prim pair got started on the first of their quirky, folky ditties about suburban life. Fox and Lark’s cheeky style with innuendo that borders on the fun side of risqué — as opposed to the downright dirty — keeps the tone perky and mischievous, like the pair of songbirds themselves. With songs about from the joys of marital sex, to the horrors of parents’ sex, the endangerment of gingers and the nature of friendship (‘friends are like tampons—they’re always discreet’), the ukuleles and pleasant, melodic voices blend better than your thermomix to create a catchy, sweet and funny show.
The duo has excellent chemistry and the show is fluid and well-rehearsed. The observational humour about the everyday idiosyncrasies of married suburban life may have more appeal to that particular demographic, and the row of middle-aged women at the front certainly seemed to find the subtleties in the humour that seemed less substantial to a single mid-twenties girl (such as yours truly). But even for those of us not in the know, the songs are fun and amusing and you’ll leave with a smile — certainly after one of the most awkward-in-the-best-kind-of-way ‘burlesque’ routines I’ve seen this Fringe. So grab your friends and be sure to RSVP to Fox and Lark’s backyard party.
This review originally appeared on Dirt & Candy