The Shaolin Monk Wheel of Life is a fantastic piece of theatre in which bald nutters of all ages somersault from one side of the stage to the other while their friends poke swords and staffs at them. They tell a great historical tale, which fortuitously for the punters at the Peacock theatre, involves much fighting and flipping about, shows of strength, and the refusal to let the odd throat be pierced by pointy spears which are thrust at them. The lucky audience sees battle after battle, and judging by the sage commentary provided in the stairways during the interval, is mostly made up of martial arts nutters -“Having done Tai Kwan Do for several years, I would like to have seen more breaking stuff.”
It wasn’t the martial artists who were unimpressed though – it was the movie-going public. “It’s not as good as the Matrix,” quips one punter, while another complains that they weren’t close enough to hitting each other, there was no blood, and no-one flew for an extended period of time. It would be easy to be impressed, you’d think, when a small boy does a series of tumbles, backflip after backflip after backflip. But without using his hands to land on, and launch himself into the next one. He actually landed on his head, and used that to flip himself over. There’s just no impressing some people.