Fringe Festival Review: Sirens, Parnell Baths

The Wet Hot Beauties synchronised swimming performance <i>Sirens</i>. Photo / Supplied

Before they'd even put a toe in the water this week, the Wet Hot
Beauties were the media's feel-good, sold-out hit of the summer.

And they deserve to be; they're a lot of fun and a lot of sass and a lot
of people - around seventy women and ten men all diving and dancing in
the Parnell Baths' thigh-high lido pool after sunset, against a
backdrop of the port's winking lights and the odd train.

By turns comic and graceful, the black-togged sirens float and wade
into patterns of stars and lotus flowers.

Choreographer Linda McFetridge knows the simplest gesture is striking when performed in unison - important when you have a wealth of untrained (and some pregnant) bodies.

Her remarkably deft group synchronisation moves the loose sirens-vs-sailors plot along (some pretty tableaux melt away fast); so much is going on that the tube and ball props and red lights felt unnecessary.

Subtle, clever visual gags include a steamboat - ie, a boat full of
steam; and a sea storm of white caps - not waves, but the diva divers'
white swimming caps.

The score pokes a sly reference to the sirens in Brother Where Art Thou?, and Fever plays as the hapless swains, lifting their temptresses high, are pushed under the water; ironically, they drown to the sultry intonation of 'what a lovely way to burn'.

Siren Queen Olivia Tennet and Sea Captain Stephen Butterworth both
glow with star wattage, particularly during their Roxanne tango.

It's only 35 minutes, but they save the best till last, and have a
rollicking good time with the Black Eyed Peas' Pump It.

To see the troupe patterns, stand on the balcony; for the bright red smiles, sit by the pool.

As a community group who moves in bare-legged formation, these water
ballerinas are the new marching girls. With looser timing and way more
joie de vivre.