Where are your troubles now? Gone – I told you so! So says the MC in the musical Cabaret to his patrons – and the masterminds behind the Sexy Recession Cabaret could say the same to theirs.

The light-hearted, total experience begins in the carpark; a woman on the theatre roof, cascading a curtain of red, coos "welcome!" Imaginative details such as this are the hallmark of dynamo director Eve Gordon – in the foyer are 1930s posters, a "peep show" (knock on the window, don’t be scared), and tiny vintage flipbooks of athletes au natural.

That’s about as risque as it gets – the "sexy" here is all sass, no crass. There are a few gorgeous besequinned bodies on display; Mike Edward drops his kimono while Gone with the Wind is projected onto his physique, revealing he didn’t give up working out when he stopped working on The Strip. But the ensemble’s sex appeal is grounded in skill, drollery and chutzpah rather than fake, plastic super-shininess. Move over Barbie; the circus Bohemians are in town. [More]
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The Sexy Recession Cabaret intends to (in the words of the director) "explore the continuum between selfishness and altruism" of our current recession; a recession that is arguably hyperbole for most, mixed with the very real downturn for some billionaires having to deal with becoming mere millionaires. I question the relevance of such a performance in our current social and creative paradigm.

Once cabaret was a safe place for debauchery in the form of then popular entertainment. It feels now like simply another vestige of what was; less something to relate to than something to parody.

As one arrives at the TAPAC theatre there is a woman draped in red 6 floors above you bidding you welcome with flair; upon entering there are young men dressed, slightly dishevelled in suits, informing you of the peep show …

Something about a peep show so close to a school is a little alarming and yet one could claim it fits with the theme so knock on the window we do. The parting curtains reveal a woman in ancient underwear being blindfolded by a near naked man and dancing just this side of lascivious.

The theatre is theatrical indeed, with black lining everything from the floors to the walls. There is a prevalence of red lighting & every seat is red. The tables hold props that anticipate audience participation and the mirrors & hoops that hang from the ceiling and walls create an ambience of small town carnival that persists in the costumes and the slightly fumbling nature of many of the performances.

It has a rotating cast but on the opening night there is a faux drunkard in Warhol garb to set the scene of debauchery, a singer in gold sequins suspended from the roof dispensing handfuls of glitter that cover the unsuspecting audience members in a thick layer of sparking dust, a comedian in a wheel chair (used bravely as an anti pc prop) singing an interminable medley of radio classics from R. Kelly’s ‘Bump N Grind’ to Sinatra’s I Did It My Way (which is notable as a funeral song and deftly used here for this deathly awkward performance).

There is tap dancing and slap stick, the humour of which died with the age it was born in, Lana Garland singing a slightly tempting but unconvincingly performed version of ‘I Want Some Sugar in my Bowl’ sometime after which the near naked drunk transforms into a human theatre which is both clever and beautiful at the same time.

There is funeral burlesque which is quite stunning and risqué & just a touch affronting, extraordinary performances off land – seeming gymnasts hanging vicariously from strands of fabric and pirouetting through hoops, a staged quiz and quite an enlivening amount of audience participation from a somewhat uninspiring MC.

The entire thing is imbued with the natural awkwardness of New Zealanders, from our nearly absent relationship with sexuality to our inability to let go. I rather felt like I was in a cross between Twin Peaks & Carnivàle – somewhere betwixt the devil talking backwards and a mildly pornographic small town sideshow.

The Ariel dancers are exquisite and the band (which appears to consist of incredibly talented teenagers) is fantastic: rhythmic, on key and at times inspirational. The theatre space is so large that they could benefit from having the band play as a gentle hum the whole time so that the shifts from one performance to the next aren’t so jarring in their reverberations.

There is easily an element of excitement mixed with the awkwardness which springs from not knowing what act one will see next, which performer will pop out from which unconventional stage entrance.

There are also elements of truly great performances but overall there is a pervading sense of an ill idea made into an evening. That idea being both to entertain and to be ‘relevant to how we are living now and how we are dealing with our own recession’. Ironically the first cabaret Le Chat Noir closed down during the recession in France, as it seemed vulgar to indorse such entertainment in such terrible economic times.

Mounted for a good cause – to raise funds for TAPAC to allow artists access to marketing and publicity support in 2010 – The Sexy Recession Cabaret is entertaining, it provides a wide scope of performances by broadly talented people and a moment outside of our every day life …

As for being relevant, I would argue that a far more interesting and topical examination of the behaviours, foibles, excesses and cultural norms that lead to this particular economic downturn could have been parodied and illuminated by putting current selves on stage instead of a bygone era that gets lost somewhat in its attempted translation.  
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