It has to be said: high-vis vests pair nicely with knee-high cowboy boots and intersectional feminism. This August, Australian theatre collective Polytoxic returns to Edinburgh with Dangerous Goods, the self-proclaimed hot-as-hell cabaret which puts social justice under the spotlight. From vocalists to flamethrowers, a stellar line-up of femme performers defy all odds and claim the stage. “It does feel like we’re ready to level up,” says Leah Shelton, turning to her collaborator Lisa Fa’alafi. “We’re really fucking ready.”
Dangerous Goods was conceived through a stereotype: the infamous (and much satirised) cat-calls of construction workers, rendering women little more than street-owned objects. “It’s about archetypes and stereotypes now, so alongside construction workers, we have a whole bunch of different iconic stereotypes,” says Shelton. A 1950s housewife, a Polynesian princess, a sex doll – Polytoxic seizes imagery which binds us and subverts their use for our revolutionary release. In this, the duo began to consider the very concept of ‘dangerous’ in a gendered context. “Is it dangerous for a woman to speak her mind? Is it dangerous [for a woman] to have agency over [her] own body or to be naked?”
Dance, aerial work, and physical theatre unravel such matters upon an expectation-defying stage. “You’re so caught up with the physicalness of the act. But then, it’s about climate change, female empowerment – all of the underlying context is just as important to us as the physical performance,” says Fa’alafi. “I still think it comes down to that whole ‘you cannot be what you cannot see,’ or whatever it is.”
Polytoxic wants femmes to see themselves on stage – spinning, singing, strutting – and realise that they, too, are powerful. Political empowerment across diverse identities has long-rooted itself within Fa’alafi and Shelton’s work, both as Polytoxic and in other artistic endeavours. Fa’alafi’s world-renowned Hot Brown Honey – a Fringe-favourite, co-directed with Kim ‘Busty Beatz’ Bowers – put seven femme BIPOC artists centre stage in a cabaret grounded in decolonial ideology. Dangerous Goods likewise doesn’t stray away from an intersectional lens; in exploring climate justice, racialised experiences, and gender inequality, Polytoxic wants its audiences to understand that our struggles are interconnected. As Fa’alafi says, “We’re in a time where we need action – physically, mentally, from the heart.”
Most definitely, for Polytoxic, anger has its place; but it, like all of us, needs an ally – both on and off-stage. “We need the joy as much as we need the rage. We need the joy, we need the laughter for ourselves to do the work every day,” says Fa’alafi. Burnout is all too catching; if this work is to be sustainable, Polytoxic knows that it must in turn sustain them. “And that’s our form. We’re not making serious plays, because that’s not how we speak. We speak this way.”
Good comedy spans across the socio-political spectrum – and Polytoxic delights in exploiting this wayward potential. “I feel like, if you can laugh with people, you can break down some of those barriers,” says Fa’alafi. Each slapstick burst or winked innuendo has its own agenda. The more we laugh, the more we connect; and in that connection, small revolutions blossom.
In July, the collective is preparing for a handful of shows at Wynnum Fringe, before undertaking the days-long pilgrimage to Edinburgh Fringe. Amid 10-hour rehearsal days, Shelton and Fa’alafi are putting the final touches to a number of costumes in their capacity as designers – as well as directors – supported by only a few talented costume producers. Dressing seven housewives in matching gingham and balaclavas is no mean feat, they note, referencing the making of one particularly synchronised number. With a laugh, they turn their laptop camera to show a sewing machine and a healthy stack of to-be-adorned fabric. Dangerous Goods is a hands-on production – and such is its brilliance.
“It starts from this,” says Shelton, drawing a line from herself to Fa’alafi, “what happens here between us.” They finish each other’s sentences, laughing at the other’s punchline before it has so much as escaped their lips. As collaborators of over 20 years, their artistic sensibilities are ever intertwined. “It’s a long-term relationship.”
Earlier in their careers, the duo were less certain as to how best to bring others into their grand visions. “But now we know from doing this so long, and from the feedback from our collaborators, that actually it’s a gift both ways,” says Fa’alafi. “We’re used to working in multiple minds, collaborating that way.”
And for Polytoxic, cabaret curation isn’t a matter of simply throwing together whatever acts they can get their hands onto and hoping for the best; rather, they craft a narrative, an atmosphere and a message with intentionality. “I think that’s also why you love cabaret, because you’re going on this real journey, and you can feel, you can channel all of these emotions,” says Shelton.
As performers, they also rely on this emotional pull. “We’re energy workers,” Fa’alafi says. The audience gives them an inch, Polytoxic takes a mile. Previously performing Dangerous Goods in a theatre, the duo is particularly looking forward to bringing the cabaret to Palais du Variété at Assembly George Square Gardens. In their experience, performing in a tent – a temporary, makeshift space – allows an audience to let loose that little bit more. And that hair-tossing, screech-letting thrill is exactly the kind of danger Polytoxic are hoping to inspire.
“We want all of our audience to be in on that, and to collectively take up the mission, or to join the protest party at the end,” says Shelton. “Make the revolution irresistible – that’s all we want to do.”
Dangerous Goods, Assembly George Square Gardens, 30 Jul-24 Aug (not 6, 11, 18), 8.05pm