A hedonistic night of running into brick walls at Fuerzabruta
The Roundhouse is a great venue. I’ve only been there once before, and it so happens that it was a standing-up job last time too, but you walk in to the gladiator’s arena and you immediately feel like you’re going to be part of something as opposed to just watching something. And so it was.
Fuertzabruta starts off with some drum banging and wailing, and then ‘He’ emerges. Backlit, and thus in silhouette, a gentleman appears on a travelator, walking along in his white suit. Suddenly a few chaps in black t-shirts appear in the audience and usher us to one side. The travelator extends to the middle of the arena and everything speeds up. He starts running, the music gets louder and pretty girls start walking on the travelator with him. Why? No idea, but it’s pretty cool. BANG!. He gets shot. “What’s the story?” I ask my chum. “No idea”. He says. If there is a story, you don’t need to know what it is. From then on Fuerzabruta gets supercharged. The strobe speeds up, the wind picks up, it starts raining and the girls start taking their clothes off. This is like a cheap night at Manumission.
A giant piece of tin foil is then quickly wrapped around the outside of us and 2 girls start chasing each other round the wall, suspended about 30 feet up in the air. They probably got charged with a terrible amount of static which didn’t bode well as they were soon to dive into a swimming pool. This, by the way, is the highlight. You look up to the ceiling and see 2 giant swimming pools with glass bottoms. In them, writhing around in a pair of pants and a wet t-shirt are ladies. This whole contraption then lowers itself to about 7 feet off the floor, enabling the pervy audience members to be able to imaginarily touch the semi-naked ladies whilst convincing themselves that they’re indulging in live art. Whatever Trevor.
Before you’ve had time to think, a plastic sheet is pulled over your head, then wind machine starts up again, and suddenly you’re in your very own snow dome, just without the snow. Holes appear in the top and a lady comes down and grabs an audience member on a wire. If you’re the chosen one then this is prob good fun. I wasn’t, meaning this was the only slow bit of the show.
Fear not, it all speeds up again. A DJ appears in a booth above the crowd with a contraption that the teams on Scrapheap Challenge would be proud of: he’s rigged some car headlights up with some airhorns off one of Eddie Stobart’s finest, and not content with that, he’s selotaped on yet another wind/smoke machine. Pacha eat your heart out. This is the real deal.
It finished in a few days, so badger your pals for a ticket and get your wet ass down to see this. It’s a MUST.