The writing is like an exaggerated soap opera script which consists solely of angry people asking each other questions, which are then answered with more questions.

Sample dialogue:

Who are you?

What's it got to do with you?

Is it a crime to ask?

How do you figure that?

And so it goes on. Tedious with little chance to advance the plot. Mind you, the plot isn't much to write home about. A disreputable cast of characters each with a deep dark secret. The actors mostly do well with the dire prose - although a few struggle with the American accents - but they don't have much more than stereotypes to work with.

As for the music. I love Bob Dylan songs - which makes it such a shame to see them treated so shabbily. Most of the melodies have been reduced to a dirge suitable for fiddle, banjo, and piano. Rather than getting a range of styles, they all seem to blend into one. Very occasionally something familiar like "All Along the Watchtower" or "Rolling Stone" is played straight, but it is slim pickings.

Which brings us to the question - what is the point of a jukebox musical? In something like "We Will Rock You", we accept that the songs sort of relate to the story. In & Juliet the songs are tweaked a bit to fit the plot. In "Girl from the North Country" the songs are just sort of dumped in at random.

There's a Black guy who is a boxer - so naturally he sings a few verses of "The Hurricane". Why? For no reason related to the plot that I could discern. What's the divine "Duquesne Whistle" doing chucked in there? Perhaps it is to beef up the number of songs the audience might have heard of? Most are deep-cuts from obscure albums and b-sides which, in of itself, is fine - but a jukebox musical demands that the audience should be able to tap their toes along to most of the numbers, right?

I am bewildered by the positive reviews. It is a plodding and unoriginal script which squanders a sublime musical catalogue.

The name-dropping is outrageous! The stories scandalous! The singing fabulous! It feels like the whole performance is in italics with extra exclamation marks.

It feels slightly odd to say this, but it was delightful to hear him sing in his natural accent. If you've seen Schmigadoon or Cabaret or literally anything else he's been in, you'll know what a gift he has for accents. But hearing classic show-tunes done in a rolling burr was magnificent.

The song choice is, I think it is fair to say, eclectic. I've seen a lot of musicals but even I struggled to place them all. Yes, he does some from Cabaret (although probably not the ones you'd expect) and a delicious Disney medley, but the real joy is in the deep cuts and the self-composed number.

His backing band is modest - piano, drums, trumpet, and cello - but it is more than enough to fill the space without being overpowering.

It is a sweet, joyous, flirtatious, and wickedly funny show. Perhaps the only disappointment was that we didn't get to hear a rendition of the theme from "High Life" 😉

Tickets are available for tonight in London, Thursday in Manchester, and Saturday in Glasgow.

I remember seeing the Forbidden Broadway show decades ago - Bianco is an alumna - and being slightly confused by all the "inside baseball" terminology. This new one-woman show is much more accessible. We were treated to Shania Twain singing Bucks Fizz, Celine Dion doing West End classics, and Julie Andrews being very rude! It's nice that it's not just American singing stars. Who knew that Edina Monsoon and Katherine Parkinson were such poets?!

The show - In Divine Company - is a run through the divas of stage and screen. Note perfect recreations of your favourite stars being as incongruous as possible.

The show is beautifully lit. What could have been a boring single spotlight is a dynamic and dazzling array of sequin-sparkling effects.

It's a well-paced show, with enough time to catch your breath between songs. A few opening-night glitches couldn't get in the way of the well-deserved standing ovation.

Silly songs sung sweetly. A perfect night out for any musical theatre lover.

In Divine Company runs until the 20th of May.

The plot - unusual for a jukebox musical - is relatively well thought through. What if Juliet didn't die at the end of Romeo + Juliet? What if she left Verona to seek her heart's desire? And, much like a Shakespeare comedy, there's no shortage of star-cross'd lovers, puns, intense queerness, and ridiculous Frenchmen. There's also a hefty chunk of Shakespearean theory wedged in there, almost as if to prove that the writer understood the hallowed boards he treads upon. Leading to perhaps my favourite line of the show, "Benvolio… Chill!"

There's a definite nod to Baz Luhrmann movie - in terms of set design and costume. The overall effect is a joyous way to drag the audience through the fourth-wall and into a crazy universe where Rosaline gets to sing about her fukboi ex.

Oh, yeah, it's a musical! The songs are all written by Max Martin. I'll admit to being ignorant of his œuvre. Well, I thought I was ignorant. But, because of the huge number of hit songs he's had, it turns out that I knew most of them!

The joy comes from seeing just how effortlessly the songs blend in to the story. Juliet, sat in a dark crypt, pining over her dead lover - what else can she sing except "My loneliness is killing me"? It's all too perfect!

You can feel the audience roar with approval as the plot segues into yet another hit song.

This is a precious gem of a show. We were lucky enough to get cheap tickets for the understudy matinee and - wow! - each performer just blew me away. Their drive, enthusiasm, and talent were incredible. The standing ovation at the end was thoroughly well deserved.

Interestingly, there were a few little technical glitches. The crew dealt promptly and unobtrusively with the occasional truculent prop - the magic of live theatre, eh?

This is the perfect post-pandemic tonic. And, every so often, there's a sing-along performance. Grab some tickets!

It seems that theatre producers have finally realised that audiences want an immersive experience which simply can't be replicated sat at home with NetFlix on.

The entrance to the theatre is via a door tucked away from the main theatre foyer. Down down down you descend, grabbing a complimentary beer or schnapps - until you enter a seedy little bar. The girls of the club strut around you, a jazz musician plays while a dancer performs their (deliberately) underwhelming gyrations. Is this Laurie Penny's famed "ironic erection"? The bar pulsates with bodies as the female audience members push their way to the front of the show. As you explore further, through multiple bars, the androgynous dancers cavort - mostly treating the gawping tourists with the disdain we so richly deserve.

Cabaret isn't designed to make you feel psychologically comfortable.

As for physical comfort…

The theatre auditorium has been completely revamped. Again, producers have realised that audiences have comfy sofas at home and don't want to pay West End prices for hard seats with no leg room. Seating is spacious and well cushioned. Honestly, this is the first time in my theatre-going life that my long legs haven't been cramped during the performance.

Similarly, no one wants to spend the interval queuing for a solitary lavatory. Instead there are plenty of cubicals - all gender-neutral as befits the show.

All of which, along with the COVID pass checking, goes to make for one of the most pleasant theatre trips I've had in a long time. The entire audience journey has been thought about and made to feel as special as possible. As we begin our slow journey back to normality, audiences will demand a feeling of safety and comfort in order to make it worth going out. But, more than that, they want the entertainment to start from the moment they cross the threshold.

This is mere preamble, of course. What's the show like?

Stunning. Cabaret has an eternal quality. I don't intend to dissect the themes of queer-outsiders battling against the forces of convention. But it is maddening just how relevant it is to 2022.

Amy Lennox is the first Sally Bowls I've seen who is bad at singing! Sally isn't meant to be Liza Minelli belting out the hits. She's an indifferent singer in a crappy club singing for people too drunk to care. The way Lennox manages to get the accent just wrong enough, and the timing just a little bit out of kilter, is stunning. It takes real skill to sing badly this well. And, once she's off the KitKat Club's stage, her vocal prowess shines through.

The whole cast are outstanding. Theatre in the round often means you're staring at the back of the actor's head half the time. But the staging and direction is so inventive that it is impossible to remain out of eye-line for long.

The orchestra is split down both sides of the auditorium - which gives a wonderful sense of stereo to the music. Something which is sorely lacking in most shows.

Even in our precariously high seats, far away from the stage, it felt like an intimate and dangerous performance.

It is hard to straddle the line between glamour and gratuitous - but this manages it well. The performers - whether he, she, or they - ooze sensuality and vulnerability. Similarly, the costumes are provocative without being explicit.

The whole experience - from start to finish - was extraordinary. It wasn't quite immersive theatre (although if you paid for ringside tables, it probably is) but it feels like you're part of the show. You're complicit.

I hope this runs for ages. It is a direct demonstration of the way an old theatre - and an old show - can be repurposed for the modern age.

Cabaret at the Kit Kat Club (London)

@kitkatclubLDN

Your first proper look inside the Kit Kat Club.

Here’s our official show trailer, released this morning.

🎟: kitkat.club pic.x.com/SRfKOT7Ifn

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