Future Cinema presents Bugsy Malone

bugsy cover

It was eleven o’clock and the evening was tapping down at Fat Sam’s. The girls were beautiful, the music was hot and the drinks were smooth. My friends and I were enjoying the hospitality, when suddenly the pies started flying.

Great entertainment and terrible Italian-American accents galore at The Troxy Theatre, East London, where Future Cinema’s latest fusion of film and cabaret brings jazz-age fun straight to the 21st century. Featuring from now until mid-April, “Bugsy Malone – A Live Cinema Experience” recreates the 1976 classic for all to enjoy.

Future Cinema, the film screening company behind the more commonly known Secret Cinema, re-imagines movie classics through theatre and music. Taking characters of the screen and giving them life and limbs, the company’s productions usually remain unnamed before entrance, more stepping into a new world than witnessing art. Known for big surprises and even bigger dressing up, the enigmatic Live Cinema group now reaches its seventh year, and with the total number of events in the double digits and membership in the tens of thousands, Future Cinema’s latest project aims to diversify by looking back. ‘Bugsy Malone – A Live Cinema Experience’ does just what it say – brings film to life – recreating Secret Cinema’s projects and bringing them back for general consumption. But is the magic lost without the ‘secrecy’? Not at all. Cheap and completely unpredictable, the new venture is just further proving drama, action and magic can be sparked in the audience, as well as on the screen.

London must have been searched high and low for the few dusky corners that resemble prohibition Chicago.

The night begins in the dark avenues outside The Troxy. London must have been searched high and low for the few dusky corners that resemble prohibition Chicago. “Mind the cars darlin’, we wouldn’t wants ya to get hurt,” calls the actress with the boa as you join the back of the queue. And no-one’s getting past without a trip to the barber – some pencil slits for the upper lip, and what can only be described as maniacal combing to create the period side parting. The acting doesn’t stop once you get into the theatre. Circular tables with centre-pieces fill the lower hall that’s surrounded by popcorn, cocktails and gambling stalls. The stage, backlit green, features two girls in sequinned dresses, tap-dancing to the live Louisiana Jazz band. It’s scarcely believable when a burly stranger recruits you to Fat Sam’s Gang, equipping you with your very own balloon Tommy Gun. Even more unbelievable is when Dandy Dan himself (although a little older) accosts the crowd. “You’re with me now, ya got it?” We got it.

As the room fills out, the cabaret goes on. Somewhere in between the dancing, the singing, the jazz band and the boxing match, the man himself, Bugsy, slinks his way through the tables. “Hey Tommy. Tommy!! Good to see ya, man. Where ya been? Anyways good t’ see ya. You still owe me fifty bucks.” How do you answer that? The elated confusion and bewilderment is beyond palpable, and before you know it you’ll be slipping into calling your friends “Knuckles” and “Snake-Eyes”, and girls “broads” – sorry “Bwords”. The lights dim and the screen comes down.  Finally the film begins.

To a ten-year-old, a 1920s musical featuring gangsters played by kids with custard bullets, somehow doesn’t seem out-of-the-ordinary.

What you don’t remember about BUGSY MALONE as a kid, between the car chases and the pies, is just how daring Alan Parker’s debut feature is. To a ten-year-old, a 1920s musical featuring gangsters played by kids with custard bullets somehow doesn’t seem out-of-the-ordinary. Only as an adult, in the company of adults, does it all become quite surreal. Every song is sung, every joke guffawed, and even the appearance of Tallulah (who, by the way, is a much more awkward character if you’re older than 14) is greeted with a cheer. Yet as great as the film is, the room is holding its breath.

All it takes is one small, outpost table at the back to don its ponchos for the clear plastic wave to wash across the room. The rest of the evening is a kind of pie-based chaos, as grown men and women spend a good twenty minutes attempting to knock the trilbies off complete strangers. You’d think the staff would be tired of the nightly foam fights by now – but no. Dandy Dan and his gang are right in the middle, chucking and spraying with the best. Everyone descends to the kid gangsters they’re emulating, until the staff decide to let the music break it up with the BLUES BROTHERS soundtrack. Damn! We forgot our shades. It seems incongruous, but the whole evening is perfect – crazy and perfect. Take it from me personally – sorry, ‘pwoisonally’.