Here we go. I’m pinch hitting for my dearest friend and mentor the doyenne of theatre critics Samela Harris who has notifiable influenza and is in bed with the doctor and sadly and unusually since she's an indefatigable critic could not leave her bed of pain to review, so this is from her poor understudy whose last notices where nearly 20 years ago in the "Istanbul Daily News" and sometime shmick mick school shows for the "Southern Cross". So…
Cabaret Festival Gala
Adelaide Festival Centre. Adelaide Cabaret Festival. 5 Jun 2015
Well, it was Weimar and Pa Kettle! Fan me with a George Grosz sketch, hard to believe but it's taken 15 years but there is actually cabaret in the Cabaret Festival! Mercy! The fullest full house in the Festival Theatre's history rejoiced in cabaret and extraneous variety entertainment.
Festival Artistic Director Barry Humphries is one of the four greatest living Australians - t'others are Edna, Les and Sandy. He is our greatest theatrical genius and he lends his ingenious, impressive imprimatur of the great, good and grotesque to this fest. He cheekily quipped after an elegant early entrance; "I'm looking forward to the show tonight so I can finally see all the acts I've been recommending". He also asked the merry, messy Mistress of Ceremonies (and his protégé) Meow Meow if he could call her by her first name. Ha!
Miss Meow Meow is cabaret. She is to cabaret what Fanny Brice was to vaudeville - simultaneously superbly fulfilling, deconstructing and bloody funny! She owns the stage. Her audience participation shtick turns a French cabaret number into a three act farce. Glorious.
Tap Pack is old chorus boys gainfully redeployed. Lovely. There's lots of glamourous edginess from The Clover Club, Marney McQueen (with great voice and ripper Julia Gillard gag), My Vagabond Boat and Strange Bedfellows. All comely, cutting cabaret.
Jazz legend Karrin Allyson is juneful and very classy and the Paris Combo is similarly all that jazz. Adelaide's own larger than life David Gauci is splendid and Michael Griffiths runs hot and Cole with "You're The Top" but isn't quite yet.
Glamorous Teddy Tahu Rhodes and Greta Bradman (grand children of Kiri Te Kanawa and Merv Hughes) were very nice in a duet by Australian composer of yore Jack O'Hagan.
Rueben Kaye has to be seen to be disbelieved. He's kinda Peter Allen on acid and chews the scenery in sheer killer theatrical outrageousness.
The rightly celebrated comedian, nice chap and unidexter Adam Hills almost stole the show with a great Adelaide gag and his patented and tremendously rousing version of our hideous national anthem to the tune of "Working Class Man".
The old vaudeville hook was needed for the curious John O'Hara who, despite talent, sang a pornographic number about being sodomised by a total stranger and ended in a crucifixion. Hopefully this experience is not autobiographical and won't be repeated... Rocker Christa Hughes sang "Bad" and was. Much-hyped local boy Daniel Koek, who made "Les Miserables" in London recently, is chockful of vibrato in the less than cabaretesque "Gethsemane" strangely supported by the sadly uninspiring Class Of Cabaret. The latter proved dismal in an inept version of a number from the local and over-hyped musical "The Front".
Vanessa Scammell led the customarily excellent Adelaide Art Orchestra beautifully and lighting and sound and set design were at the world best Festival Centre standard. Director Andy Packer an under-rated, quiet achiever, understands the style and pace and energy required and it's to his great credit the show triumphs. Onya Andy.
And, the finale is the greatest Australian export since penicillin and loads more fun, the gigastar Dame Edna Everage - the juicy cherry on this delicious cabaret cake. This gala and galah prelude presages great cabaret (at last) in the great, highly popular cabaret fest. Onya Bazz!
Peter Goers
When: Closed
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: Closed
