We’ve an app for every desire and can stream a litany of pleasures on-demand, but are we any happier for it, asks cabaret star Johanna Allen, in her pop-culture melange, 'Cake'.
'Cake' at this year’s Adelaide Cabaret Festival (21 June) marks Johanna’s triumphant return to the Adelaide Festival Centre for the first time since being inducted into the Hall Of Fame that emblazons the walkway outside.
A hometown hero, Johanna has succeeded in contemporary, cabaret and musical theatre genres. 'Cake' is a frenetic blend of styles, which only a performer of her myriad talents could attempt to tackle.
It begins with Johanna’s silhouetted figure emerging from behind a shower curtain, draped in a sparkling brown jumpsuit and topped with a brunette Marie-Antoinette wig. She sings Avicii’s ‘Addicted to You’, while narcissistically gazing into a hand-held mirror.
This is not a celebration of excess; it is a cautionary tale of the dangers of self-obsession and self-indulgence. Beginning with ‘Addicted To You’, then, was doubly apt, composed as it was by the recently deceased Swedish DJ who sadly succumbed to mental illness after a long battle with alcoholism.
This is not an entirely sombre affair, though, despite its underlying message. The first three quarters of the show are riotous debauchery and laughs, as Johanna sings about food, sex, money, gossip, booze and smartphones.
Sometimes food and sex are indistinguishable; her version of Oliver’s ‘Food Glorious Food’ is as dirty as a London street urchin. I never quite thought of “hot sausage and mustard” that way before.
It is a show where you rarely get to hear a song from start to finish, though, and this is by conscious design.
It is a channel surfing safari. It is the cabaret equivalent of sitting with a Kindle on your knee, a smartphone in your hand, your smart TV streaming Netflix while you blast Spotify out of your laptop.
She flicks between show tunes by Cole Porter and indie rock by The Dandy Warhols and Rodriguez – her version of 'Sugar Man' is special. She channels the spirit of Kath and Kim in her version of Tone Loc’s midnight party anthem ‘Funky Cold Medina’, tub thumps Chumbawamba while seated on a tub, recites Lewis Carroll and '50 Shades of Grey'.
Basically, it is a show riddled with so many pop culture references that it is a reviewer’s nightmare and a quiz master’s dream, but all for a purpose. Does our abundance of digital riches bring satisfaction, or ADD and OCD?
Her conclusion is that real happiness and joy is gazing up into the autumn sky and watching the leaves descend, not staring down into your Samsung and watches tweets ascend.
Her director, Michael Ralph and musical director Mark Simeon Ferguson must be commended for weaving together the most ludicrously intricate patchwork.
Paradoxically, in a show that questions the propriety of excess, too much Johanna Allen never seems quite enough.
★★★★★
