Burlesque is all about the tease. This family friendly merger of burlesque and water ballet from The Whoopee Club certainly kept its audience waiting, right until it erupted in a delightful display of light, sound and splashing synchronicity.
 
The lovely, art-deco swimming house at the Porchester Centre in Queensway was the specific site. The crowd, promised a party afterwards, turned up in flapper costumes and sailor suits. Herded initially into a stairwell, we were eventually led into the children’s pool, in which four or five lovelies in white costumes and cloche swimming caps were playing with large balloons. ‘I Only Have Eyes For You’ played quietly in the background, the atmosphere a strange twentieth century take on a nymphs’ grotto. Fragrant chlorine (still my favourite halogen) and occasional giggles filled the air. Only the teddy bear posters urging me not to dive-bomb hinted that this was not Arcady. Only the girls’ inconsistent ball skills betrayed their mortality.

The girls’ balloon-play had charm without ever being impressive. The usherettes had to tell us the show was over, and we were led in slight confusion to the high galleries of the vaulted main pool. Here, a larger chorus were standing on the sides, throwing occasional Ziegfeld poses in time to music. On the scale of theatrical experiences, this was at the deeply silly end – the audience were left not knowing when to clap.
 
Yet, as the poses grew more suggestive, and came in quicker, more complex sequence, there gathered in the audience a sense of anticipation. Finally, with the magic fire music from Die Walkure ripping through the tinny sound system, the chorus hit the waves. What followed was a short, glorious parade of long, glorious bodies combined in Busby Berkeley shapes: stars, circles and moving columns, decorated by splashing feet or shapely legs raised to the ceiling.

Pools of light brought the water to life as these latter-day Rhinemaidens did their stuff. Broadway standards and light classical mush troubled the tannoi as they peeled off in expanding fan-shapes, paraded a glowing balloon through the darkened waters, and finished with a revolving dartboard of concentric circles. At that point of climax – sweet release - jets of water exploded from the pool’s sides and coloured fountains flowered at its head. The girls waved coyly and tiptoed off to great applause. In showbiz, as in so many things, a slow build-up can work wonders.

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