Adelaide Festival Centre. Festival Theatre. 15 April 2014
On her septuagenarian come-back tour, Helen Reddy both thrills and perplexes.
She still has a terrific set of pipes and impressive lung capacity. But, in black leggings and a black top, she dresses as if she's just popped in for a rehearsal. At least her blue earrings match her eye shadow. With a huge audience, mainly of Baby Boomer women who have paid a hundred and more bucks for their seats and donned bling and gladrags for the big occasion, you'd think the star could have frocked up. Her guitarist, Lenny Coltun, has gone to more trouble.
But Reddy plays it laid back and casual all the way. At first she seems a little detached. She has sung three songs before she remembers to say hello to the audience. As the 90-minute show develops, however, Reddy warms to the task and to the audience. She even gives a few wiggly self-huggies and ends with a declaration of love.
Between songs, the “queen of 70s pop" retreats to a stool amid the musicians "for a bit of a chat". Chat is not her strong point. She sighs and catches her breath, takes some sips of water and gets on with the next song. Lots of Paul Williams, one of her favourite songwriters. Some Don McLean. Some Peter Allen. And, of course, some Helen Reddy.
The fans are in seventh heaven when she does her big hits ‘Angie Baby’ and ‘Leave Me Alone (Ruby Red Dress)’. When she delivers ‘Mama’, which she dedicates to her own mother, Stella Lamond, she pretty much brings the house down. Despite the status of ‘I am Woman’ in the grand scheme of Reddy things, it is ‘Mama’ which is her biggest and most beautiful number on the night in Adelaide.
The little song she wrote when she was at UCLA, ‘You and Me Against the World’, she dedicates to her 16-year-old granddaughter. It is another winner.
Sometimes she seems uncertain as to which song she will sing and occasionally she muffs lyrics. But, since the whole show has the casual air, not to mention costume, of a rehearsal, it goes over.
The audience already loves the performer and, while the years may have taken the edge off her top notes, her voice is still that powerful, unusual and highly-recognisable instrument which earned her years of chart-topping success.
She gives her time to the minute. "It's not over until it's over," she jokes between numbers.
And, when it's over, it has been an evening of ballads and foot-tappers, some wonderful arrangements well played by the band and an intimate encounter with the woman who gave feminism that one triumphant anthem.
Samela Harris
When: Closed
Where: Festival Theatre
Bookings: Closed
