I can’t write this review without acknowledging the big, sweaty elephant in the room. On one of the hottest days of the year, Adelaide reached temperatures of more than 44 degrees, yet the coolest change was the stunning Buglesque, which scuttled onto the stage at premiere burlesque venue Nineteen Ten.

The debut show by Happy Blossom Productions (a joint venture by Monty Mishap and Geri Blossom), Buglesque promised a camp, queer variety show, celebrating bugs and swatting away any notion that creepy crawlies and gentle garden friends are anything other than sexy invertebrates (which is a combination of words I never thought I would write).

And it delivered in swarms.

The exquisite team at Nineteen Ten cranked up the misters on the rooftop and shook up an ungodly number of icy cold, bug-themed cocktails to keep us hydrated while a stacked cast of cute, funny, sexy, silly and sensual bugs spread their wings and antennae on the stage in a flurry of bugging awesome ant-ics.

This show was hot. In every sense of the word.

Frankie Fox opened the event as a sultry, yet adorable ladybug. A performer with grace, poise and a killer side-eye, she immediately set the tone: this was going to be playful, polished and fun.

Then out wriggled Colin Girth as Heimlich the caterpillar from A Bug’s Life (with flavours of Hungry Hungry Caterpillar) which was, without exaggeration, one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen on stage and I’ve seen a lot of things. Completely ridiculous, perfectly committed, and richly rewarded with a well-deserved standing ovation. Iconic. I’ll be thinking about that performance for years.

Triple threat, producer, performer and host, Monty Mishap was brilliant — warm, sharp, and in full command of the room. The David Attenborough-style voiceover was inspired and landed perfectly. On a day when the heat could have melted the vibe entirely, Monty kept everything buoyant, cohesive and buzzing.

Blow-flies are annoying unless you’re a blow-everyone-away-by-being-spectacular-fly, like Saskia, a buzzing babe who turns annoying into attractive and pesky into powerhouse. Owning the stage like a fly on a picnic, Saskia’s performance was hilarious, unique and unsettlingly accurate — I genuinely never thought I’d find a fly so spellbinding, yet here we are.

Geri Blossom brought neon green, high-voltage sex appeal to the pole, with a highly skilled, jaw-dropping routine making a praying mantis into a religious experience.

Arthur Nicely (Christmas Beetle) and Honey B Mine (a bee, of course) were a fabulous stage crew keeping everything on track, on time and in check.

With a duo that could convert even the most committed mottephobic, Monty Mishap and Starling Strix gave us a gift of a beautifully compelling, yet equally ridiculous moth mating ritual that felt tender, funny and just the right amount of weird.

I am going to give a special shoutout to acknowledge Arthur Nicely, who took a thoughtful detour into environmental storytelling, reminding us that Christmas Beetles are becoming extinct — and encouraging the audience to register sightings via the Christmas Beetle Count. It was informative, heartfelt, and slotted seamlessly into the show’s ecosystem. You can read about it and register any Christmas Beetles you see HERE.

To round out what was already an incredible show, who should wander out from her web of wonder and intrigue, but the show’s headliner and devastatingly deadly redback spider, Lyra LaBelle. Her precision, skill and power is unmatched, and her costume was to die for. Anything Lyra does is a watch and learn moment, and this was no exception.

Buglesque was joyfully unique, silly, sexy, clever and a deeply kind love letter to creatures that are often unfairly squashed into an unfair stereotype of annoying creepers. It gave me a brand new respect for invertebrates, but more so a love of the people who love them (although mosquitoes can still get in the bin).

Bravo, Happy Blossom Productions! And a big hats off to The Pilot Light Project for taking a punt on new producers and funding this sparkly, sweaty reminder that even the smallest, creepiest (in an insect context), crawliest creatures deserve the spotlight.

Five stars. Would buzz back again. They absolutely snailed it.

Libby Trainor Parker