Ok, think of Bobba Fett: The villainous, alien bounty hunter who captured Han Solo and said to Darth in a gravelly voice, “He’s no use to me dead.” Remember him? Good. Now imagine him as a voluptuous, leggy woman, gyrating on stage, slowly peeling off pieces of body armour, to the tune of Welcome to the Jungle by Guns n’ Roses.
And there you have Star Wars Burlesque.
For The Empire Strips Back, I was worried I’d over-nerded myself by wearing an ironic Star Wars T-shirt, but on arrival at the Canberra Theatre, I realised I was among friends. Friends waving light-sabers. Friends wearing Darth Vader helmets. Friends in black latex suspenders posing for photos with life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Chewbacca.
I’d brought my girlfriend along: a staunch feminist who’s never seen a single Star Wars movie. On reflection, an error of judgement.
Since my first Star Wars Burlesque experience in a pokey Sydney bar a few years back (which felt strangely high-brow) the brand has made the jump to light speed. Close to 1,000 whooping fans packed the Canberra Theatre. At times it felt more like a morale boosting strip-show for depraved soldiers in a faraway conflict zone.
Nonetheless, there were classic moments. Han Solo and his 7-foot hirsute companion rapping to “99 Problems but a Bitch Ain’t One”; a team of Jawas dismantling C3-PO piece-by-golden-piece to reveal the true reason he’s considered to be a somewhat ‘feminine’ droid; A giant Jaba the Hutt puppet (complete with slimy tongue) and a dancing Tauntaun that fainted in the snow when his rider started peeling off her fur garments.
The MC, as a camp German Imperial Officer, was brilliant and his karaoke version of Michael Jackson’s Ben (Kenobi) brought the house down.
By far the ultimate moment was when a hunchbacked Emperor Palpatine disrobed to reveal his pasty, shrivelled skin and prosthetic testicles (hanging a full 25-centimetres from his crotch) before using The Force to pull on stage a giant disco-ball death star, which he promptly mounted and swung back and forwards to the tune of Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus.
It’s not X-wing science.
But, judging by the crowd’s reaction, it is entertainment… on a galactic scale.
