Hapless dance troupe Wet Dreams get a taste of the dark arts when they’re lured to a gig to raise the dead. Plus: a cameo from Peter Andre
Leslie FelperinTue 15 Oct 2024 09.00 BSTLast modified on Tue 15 Oct 2024 09.02 BSTShareResolutely raunchy, gory, and very silly, this comedy horror is trashy for sure, but it’s mildly amusing and manages to deliver offensive gags that avoid outright misogyny. That’s no mean feat given the core plot is about a troupe of middle-aged male strippers who fall into a trap laid by a coven determined to raise a 16th-century witch from the dead. To complete this project, penises must be severed – a prospect our heroes aren’t keen on, for obvious reasons. You can imagine the elevator pitch: The Full Monty meets Necromancy, or some such.
The leader of the strippers, who go by the handle Wet Dreams, is feckless, fiftysomething Alan (Dean Kilbey), a terminal screw-up living in a rented room in a student flat and making money on the side as a camboy. His daughter Daisy (Barbara Smith) wants nothing to do with him, a point she makes quite clear when they run into each other at a party his flatmates are throwing. The group is managed by Deano (Liam Noble), whose nickname Double Dip is revealed late in the game for maximum ick-effect. Deano wants to pull the plug on this failing business, which doesn’t seem all that tragic to Ratboy (Mark Monero, Steve from EastEnders a million years ago), who would just continue selling real estate. The other two Wet Dreamers, speccy Neil (Perry Benson) and peaky Carly (David Alexander), couldn’t be less bothered. But they agree to one last gig, which turns out to be in a dodgy-looking club at the edge of town where the bouncer is a one-eyed ex-darts champion (Steve Oram) and the hostess a matronly lady in a red-sequined dress (Juliet Cowan), all in the employ of amateur witch Christine (Emma Stannard).
Christine’s hatred of men and turn towards the dark arts is explained when she gets a visit from her ex, a Greek gigolo who dumped her at the airport. This is played by none other than Peter Andre; it’s the absurd details that make this nonsense weirdly watchable. The banter among the core dance troupe has a bit of snap, and the whole thing rolls along easily enough – until it gets to the witch resurrection bit where it falters somewhat. You will have seen better ghoulish makeup on the average street corner last Halloween, but that’s OK: it is clearly not meant to actually scare anyone.
Members Club is on digital platforms from 21 October.
Members Club review – male strippers meet bloodthirsty witches in gory comedy horror
