Following on from the previous post, here is my review of the latest Meow Meow show, currently playing at the Sydney Opera House. I wasn't sure what the mag was going to make of it but the editor said she likes it.
MEOW MEOW
Dear Meow Meow,
As you made your elegantly disheveled appearance, clambering over the audience and making some of them carry your stuff to the stage for you while you stole their drinks, I confess to feeling tiny prickles of disappointment. Was this going to be an identical show to last year’s? However the disappointment soon vanished as I realised that there are some rare and wonderful things in life that one simply can’t get too much of. Forgotten details came flooding back and in no time at all I was again seduced by the sheer force of your personality, I was in awe of your towering ego and amazed by your musical and comical genius, and by the end of the show I was almost comatose with desire. I think I am more in love with you than you are. (Shh - it is possible). I love the way you so effortlessly tap into the simple and raw honesty of a Jacques Brel number one minute - your essence a vortex of heartbreak - then turn a song on its head the next and become the embodiment of daffiness. Your grasp of languages from East to West hints at an intelligence to match your smoldering sensuality. Clearly you have the ability to break hearts with song, yet you choose instead to interpret cabaret classics (as well as pop fluff) in comical ways, accompanied by a flexible physical repertoire that would make the great clowns weep with envy. And when not drawing heartfelt laughter from the packed room with comical interpretations, physical flirtation or an ironic disdain for your besotted audience, a spontaneous and random sight gag was pulled from your “bag of stuff”... the mannequin costume change made me smile out loud. Convinced that the volunteers you selected from the audience were paid performers, I was shocked and I swooned when you took my hand and lead me onto the stage. Remember me always as the one who dutifully thrust the lyric pages between your parted thighs... Ooh – this was meant to be a review, not a love letter. Erm... this was a brilliant night out, extra bits added to last year’s show. Mardi Gras bit was tinsely and gorgeously camp and as hilarious as the rest of the show. Go see it. She’s excellent.
Until 24 February, The Studio, Sydney Opera House.
LEE BEMROSE
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3 comments:
Very nice. In fact, it almost makes me want to come all the fricking way to Australia to see this woman. Any chance she's coming to Chicago? Save me a few bucks?
I don't see why not. I think she is American... you know what? I don't know who the hell she is or where she is from. She gives nothing of herself away in interviews, I've had one friend insist she's Australian, I read she's from the USA but I'm sure at times she sounded British.
Anyway, if she does go to Chicago, do see her. She is dreamy. The Sydney Opera House is not a bad venue though.
Oh yeah - got my facts wrong, didn't I. She's Australian.
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