Beaverhausen the third (twice removed) is not of this earth. This Drag King comes from a space-town of lip syncers living happily within a Celine Dion tune, until – tragedy! – they get stuck inside Steps instead. Our hero has to come to earth to learn about these strange people with their own words, music, and rules, and perhaps help us all understand and liberate ourselves in the process.

The show plays out part lip sync, part dance-off, and part joyous celebration of the queer pop canon. It’s also a bit little-boy-lost, as Beaverhousen, aided by a kindly, faux-patrician voiceover, explores his surroundings with the wide-eyed wonder of an animated 1970s kids telly character, though with more twerking than Bagpuss ever attempted. 

Beverhausen is a kind of Chaplin Burlesque, armed with a Fin De Siecle moustache and bright ginger eyebrows (hard relate). 

His movements are hilarious, especially the little shuffles backwards with a thousand tiny cartoonish steps, and the spins like some cabaret star gone very wrong.

Winner of the 2025 Brighton Fringe “Cabaret & Variety” bursery, and directed by burlesque and musical comedy champion Selena Mersey, this is an open hearted celebration of queer culture.

The multimedia elements, include animation, make this show even more charming and accessible (and with future performances also to feature BSL signed accompaniment). This stuff is important and carefully planned and worked on – it’s accessible as it can be, without ever compromising its vision.

During one joyous bit when Beaverhausen’s magic hands hover over audience members and unleash the song or monologue within, the spirit of Simon Munnery’s groundbreaking multimedia work The League Against Tedium hangs within. However, here the crowd is part of the celebration, and there’s never any punching down – a difficult thing to do anyway in sparkling yellow oven gloves.

The way disparate footage and lip synced tunes help form a narrative and immersive singular universe is reminiscent of Freddie Hayes’ Cats – no small compliment – and the burlesque elements, always accompanied by huge screams of approval, are beautifully choreographed and beautifully silly.

In dark times, a lot of queer shows at Brighton Fringe this year are rightly dealing with existential themes amid the rise and mainstream acceptance of far right narratives and policies. But there is still space for joy, wonder, and unapologetic celebration of difference – all qualities Beaverhausen has in sparkly bucketloads.