Piercing ‘Shock’ absorbs jaded, twisted themes

Friday, Feb. 14, 2003 | 9:06 a.m.

What: "Shock."

When: 10:30 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays.

Where: Bourbon Street Showroom.

Tickets: $24.95.

Information: (702) 733-7200, ext. 2.

Rating (out of 5 stars): *** 1/2

If watching someone jam a long needle through his arm or his jaw is your idea of entertainment, "Shock" is for you.

This Bourbon Street gag-a-thon's target audience is younger adults, perhaps jaded and looking for entertainment outside the mainstream -- the same crowds who flocked to see last year's blockbuster "Jackass: The Movie."

They could also be the children and grandchildren of fans of the "Rocky Horror Picture Show," the classic cult motion picture that debuted in 1973 and continues to attract midnight audiences at showings around the world.

Judging from one recent performance, co-producers Scott Lewis and Robert Allen have hit their target with "Shock."

Lewis and Allen are not strangers to what pleases audiences. The former, a chiropractor by day, is a comic-hypnotist by night at the Riviera. The latter spent nine years as a comedian with "Splash."

"Shock" has been drawing ever larger crowds to its late-night performances in the cramped, 100-seat showroom.

It wouldn't shock me to see the show move to a venue with a lot more wretching room.

"Shock" owes its success primarily to the show's anchor act -- Zamora, the Torture King, whose real name is Tim Cridland.

Besides acting as a human pincushion, Cridland eats lightbulbs, walks on shattered bottles and lays down on a bed of glass while a volunteer jumps onto his chest and stomach.

The shock-entertainer was one of the founders of the Lollapalooza Sideshow and was a member of the Jim Rose Circus Sideshow, a freak show that was formed in Seattle in 1986.

Without Zamora, "Shock" is relatively tame. But it isn't as tame as it was when the producers showcased it in November and December at the Riviera, where they were limited in their overall shock treatment.

Something about fire laws and good taste.

There aren't too many taboos at Bourbon Street. The audience is even treated to the sight of a well-endowed Elvis impersonator dangling a 10-pound weight from his male member.

The action takes place behind a screen that is back-lit so that the performer is only seen as a silhouette, and not in the flesh -- something about decency laws.

"Shock" actually begins before the curtain goes up.

A couple sitting at a table in the audience suddenly start to argue as fans await the show. The man leaps to his feet, curses at his date and runs out of the theater, leaving her sobbing.

As the dumbfounded patrons stare at the weeping woman, wondering if they should comfort her, the date returns with a chain saw buzzing loudly and he chases her onto the stage and behind the curtains.

Vocalist Keka (Kelly Karl) then steps into the limelight singing "People are Strange," dressed in black leather hot pants and sporting a pierced nose.

Hosting the macabre night is Malakai (Ron Keck), whose menacing tones are often more comical than menacing.

"You are about to witness a show with the most unusual, strange and bizarre attractions you have ever seen," Malakai says. "This is the show you will talk about for years ... if you see a thousand shows, this is the show, these are the people who will remain in your memory forever ..."

That may be a bit of a stretch, like Elvis with the 10-pound weight.

Among the acts he introduces are Victoria the Enchantress (hypnotist -- Victoria Wayne), who places a transparent cage full of rats over the head of a volunteer who has been hypnotized; and Aryha (Deanna Hinshaw), who holds a wire that shoots enough electricity through her body to turn on lights she is holding.

While "Shock" is fun for many, a gross-out for others, there is the question -- will it become a victim of its own success?

The thing that makes "Shock" shocking is that it surprises audiences with ghastly acts. But after seeing the acts a few times, there is the danger that fans may become anesthetized and blase, and the producers are then left with the task of topping themselves with gimmicks that are ever more disgusting.

But as long as the gag-o-meter is hitting in the red zone, this production should be around for a long while."