REVIEW: THE LONDON FOLIES, Leicester Square Theatre, August 6 2009

Last night I witnessed the most unprofessional journalistic conduct I have ever seen in my life. A critic heckled during the press night of The London Folies, complaining sarcastically to tap dancer James Devine, "Gee, what a wonderful burlesque show this is," and then responding to compere Ivy Paige's question "What do you want?" with "You to have some talent." He and his companion refused to leave in the middle of Act One, despite the fury unleashed on them by the rest of the audience, but fortunately made an exit at the interval. Good riddance, you may say. And I'd concur.

And yet, and yet.

And yet I can't help but secretly feel he had a point. Not about the burlesque show - it's quite clearly billed as variety and burlesque - but about the standard of acts on display and the production values. From the moment the opening number began, the entire show had the feeling of a sixth-form revue, complete with pre-programmed click tracks recorded from just one keyboard, dubious sound quality and basic lighting.

Paige should have been the strongest link, but she was the weakest. Her engagement with the audience was strained and stilted, with some genuinely funny lines swallowed up by poor delivery, and her stage presence was awkward.

The world's fastest tap dancer James Devine was impressive, but the lack of a rake in the auditorium meant his feet were frequently hidden by the heads in the way. Violinist Waylon Luke Ma was undeniably talented but he really should not try to banter with the audience - his attempts were silence-inducingly cringeworthy. The hip-hop jugglers from the Manu Laude Company were, bizarrely, much better when performing with machetes than they were with the glass bottles, which were crashing all over the stage. Miss Polly Rae and the London Folie Dancers in their burlesque routines were stunningly beautiful but some odd choreography and weak music made watching the lovely ladies undress while dancing feel sleazy rather than saucy. As if that weren't enough, the clumsy efforts to make the show hang together with whole cast numbers were excruciatingly embarrassing - the dancers acting as mannequins with Devine tapping around them being a prime example.

The London Folies clearly want to capitalise on the gap in the market left by La Clique, but it's not in the same league. A lot of work needs to be done on this show to make it even half-decent and worth a punter's hard-earned cash.