A multi-award-winning experience of what it’s like to live in constant fear, from rookie Hungarian director László Nemes
Never mind that the 5,000 strictly heterosexual revellers in Ibiza's largest (read: most soulless) club aren't so much dancing as staring in mild amusement at Kylie's latest confused incarnation, a Madonna-aping disco diva in gold corset and hotpants. And let's not worry too much about the music; since when has that ever been an issue? For Kylie's presence in Ibiza constitutes an event in itself, a glitzy spectacle in the face of so many gormless Dave Trance DJs, and really, she couldn't get away with this crude tabloid cabaret anywhere else.
Reputedly bringing live music to White Island club culture for the first time since the heady days of 1988, it's impossible not to notice the absence of Kylie's band, while the parts she sings without even opening her mouth can only impress. Still, her under-rehearsed, buffed'n'bronzed backing dancers - the girls topless but for black nipple tassels - make Kylie seem the natural showgirl, all haughty confidence and coquettish charm, as she strides purposefully about the huge two-tier stage, her name twinkling in lights behind.
Though difficult for a new Kylie song called 'Light Years' to be more like Madonna's 'Ray Of Light' without actually being 'Ray Of Light', the message is clear: this time, Kylie's nibbling at the throbbing dance-trance jugular. And if similarly sturdy anthems 'KM Air', 'Spinning Around' and a housed-up 'Better The Devil You Know' are anything to go by, she's found her podium and she's on it - if not, yet, on one. She leaves us with 'Your Disco Needs You', her hi-NRG 'tribute' to the Village People. It's hilarious. But which of the four characters is Kylie pretending to be? The gay one, presumably.
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