According to legal documents obtained by comedian Lewis Spears, Olympic break dancer Ray Gun’s legal team sent cease and desist letters claiming ownership of the choreography she performed at the Olympics, including her “Kangaroo Dance” routine. The letters were sent to comedian Steph Broadbridge and venues planning to host “Ray Gun: The Musical,” a parody show about Gun’s Olympic journey.
In the legal letter, Gun’s team states that “our client’s choreography performed at the Olympics was the culmination of over 10 years of training” and that “copyright subsists in this choreography as an artistic work.” They threatened legal action over unauthorized use of what they termed Gun’s “complex sequence of moves and techniques.”
While Gun later claimed in a video statement that she “did not trademark or claim any trademark ownership of the Kangaroo Dance,” the legal documents show her team asserting broad intellectual property rights over her Olympic performance choreography.
Indigenous Cultural Appropriation Concerns
The claims of choreography ownership have sparked criticism, with some noting that kangaroo-inspired dances have been performed by Indigenous Australians for thousands of years. Indigenous community members have pointed out that kangaroo dances have been part of their cultural traditions for tens of thousands of years. In response to the backlash, Raygun claimed her dance “in no way mimics Aboriginal dance” and was instead inspired by the Olympic mascot BK the boxing kangaroo.
Contradictions in Raygun’s Claims of Being “Blindsided”
Raygun’s claim that she was “blindsided” by a parody musical about her has been called into question after evidence emerged showing her legal team had trademarked imagery from the show months before taking legal action. In a video statement, Raygun claimed “the first we heard of it was last Friday” (December 6th) when the story appeared in the Sydney Morning Herald. However, trademark records reveal her team filed to trademark the silhouette pose used in the musical’s promotional materials on September 25th – the same day comedian Steph Broadbridge first posted about the show on social media.
The venue’s producer corroborated this timeline on Instagram, stating: “I’ve got proof here that they took the silhouette from the poster and trademarked it…filed it the same day the poster came out…blindsided my a*s.”
Legal Demands and Charity Donation Blocked
Olympic breakdancer Ray Gun’s legal team demanded $10,000 in legal fees from ID Comedy Club in Sydney over the planned parody show. The musical, which sold 70 tickets and generated $500 in profit, was intended to donate all proceeds to a women’s shelter before receiving legal threats from Ray Gun’s lawyers.
Club owner Anthony Skinner had offered to pay Ray Gun the entire $500 profit, but her legal team rejected the offer and instead demanded $10,000 in legal costs. Such a payment could potentially bankrupt his small business.
Legal Experts Question Trademark Claims
Legal experts have cast doubt on Ray Gun’s ability to enforce such claims. Under Australian law, choreography can only be protected if exactly replicated, and parody performances are specifically protected. Additionally, names and short titles generally cannot be copyrighted in Australia.
Adding to the controversy, while threatening legal action over unauthorized use of her dance moves, Ray Gun simultaneously promoted a dance challenge encouraging people to imitate her style – including her signature kangaroo pose – for prize money. In social media posts, she actively encouraged followers to “dance like me” and replicate her moves.
The comedy community has rallied behind the affected performers, vowing to launch a crowdfunding campaign for legal defense if needed. The case has sparked wider discussions about artistic freedom and the use of legal pressure to silence parody, while the women’s shelter intended to receive the donations remains at risk of missing out on the funds due to the ongoing legal dispute.
A former capoeira instructor turned biohacking enthusiast, Gio spent his early years bouncing between São Paulo and Miami before settling in Austin. With a master’s in sports physiology and a penchant for experimenting with traditional Brazilian herbs, he’s become Rude Vulture’s go-to expert on movement optimization and plant-based performance enhancement. When not writing about the intersection of martial arts and ancestral living, he runs an underground fight gym where participants are required to follow strict circadian rhythm protocols.