Six beefy Australians tap-dancing in boots for 90 minutes. There was the odd nod and wink at the audience, the occasional flash of humour, and at one moment a chap tap-dancing upside down on the ceiling. But in general an entertaining cabaret turn stretched way beyond its natural length.
There was the occasional thrilling moment, especially the driving ensemble routines. There was a witty routine with basketballs. And it was fun at the end when they donned wellies and started dancing in trays of water, drenching the front rows (who'd been issued with transparent plastic macs) in the process. Some of it looked difficult, even dangerous, including a routine in which they danced on sloping ramps (the set was constantly being rejigged, rebuilt and opened out) and a closing routine in which they danced on girders. The lead dancer had one of his fingers in a splint, presumably a result of an on-stage misjudgement.
But some of it simply misfired completely. Tap dances just aren't that interesting. And, though they ranged from highly competent to very slick, none of them was Fred Astaire.