Life is a Cabaret

Venturing out plus recipes for a broken arm

Cabaret

Last night I went to see Cabaret the musical in London. It’s the second time I’ve seen it; the first was a couple of years ago when it first came out, with Eddie Redmayne playing the Emcee and Jessie Buckley as Sally Bowles. I had a £25 ticket in the back of the Gods. It was fun but the action on stage was minuscule.

This time we had better tickets costing £90 each in the dress circle. It was a birthday treat from my friend Jim. However his seat was broken and he was incredibly uncomfortable.

I’ve been obsessed with Cabaret since 1972 when the film came out starring Liza Minelli. I was 12 years old and the film was an 18. My parents helped me dress up. I was always small and young looking so this wasn’t going to be easy.

I wore makeup, high heels, carried my mum’s handbag and practised saying the year that I was born if I was 18.

With my friend Tina, we strode up to the box office at the Swiss Cottage Odeon. Once we got to the head of the queue, the manager was called.

Tina was quaking, she wasn’t going to hold out. But I was determined to see the film.

After a gentle interrogation, the manager asked:

What year were you born?

‘1952’ I answered quick as a flash.

He let us in.

After that I got my fringe cut into a point at the front. I started calling everything ‘divine’ or ‘decadent’. The style, Liza, Joel, the songs were a seminal influence for me: dramatic, dark, emotional, camp, naughty. I dreamed of buying sequinned tops, halter necks, false eyelashes, painting my nails green. I did buy a bowler hat which I wore all the time.

I bought all of Liza’s albums. Only the live ones were any good. I watched her TV special ‘Liza with a Z’ and listened to the album on repeat. (Videos and home recorders weren’t yet available). I could sing the whole concert, complete with the between-song banter. Like Rufus Wainwright doing ‘Judy at Carnegie Hall’.

My dad didn’t think much of Liza as a singer. She tended to shout. I loved the shouting. The way she could boom out a song, bending over backwards like a gymnast with an arm flung back for the last few notes.

She was funny and could act out a song. Because of her I got into Judy, her mum, and Charles Aznavour (saw him and Liza at the Paris Olympia). Artists introduce you to other artists. David Bowie introduced me to Lou Reed and the Velvet Underground. When you are obsessed with an artist, it’s a bit like a new crush or lover, you research everything, what they read, watch, eat, listen to.

Liza was a brilliant and stylish dancer. Bob Fosse directed Cabaret, but he also choreographed her show. She had all the signature Fosse gestures: jutting forward hips, flared jazz hands, shoulder rolls, turned in knees and toes, cocked head.

I loved her clothes, the Peter Pan collars, the hats, the long legs in black tights, the tight fitted jackets, black and white framing her face, the urchin look. Halston dressing her in draped satin, trying to make her look sexy and womanly. This was talked about ‘Halston’. ‘Why are you dressing like a little girl?’ he said in the show. I loved her little girl looks.

Last night’s show was the first time the two leads, the emcee and Sally were played by black artists, Billy Porter and Marisha Wallace. Much of the cast were black. I’m sure Berlin in the 1920s had black artists; Josephine Baker sailed to Paris and became a hit during the 20s. But she was a pioneer, one of the first American black performers in Europe. I doubt that the KitKat club had a majority of black artists. It was a bit jarring. Colour-blind casting can work wonderfully (Bridgerton) but in historical pieces, sometimes it takes you out of the era.

I was disappointed by many things in last night’s show. Billy Porter seemed to have lost his voice and had an American rather than German accent. Marisha Wallace, an American, could do a good British accent and sang very well but could not move and obviously was not a dancer. To put it frankly she’s very fat. Now I’ve spent much of my life since adolescence being fat so I ain’t judging fatness per se. Some of the best dancers are fat (my sister who is no sylph is a brilliant mover). Body size and shape is not a barrier to being a dancer. But I could not imagine anyone falling in love with this Sally Bowles, wanting to watch her on stage or even within the character’s deluded sex bomb self-image, lusting after her. I’m sure Wallace was excellent in Dreamgirls but she wasn’t right for Cabaret. Just my opinion.

The costumes, I don’t know if they’ve changed since the first time I saw it, were a bit dowdy and brown. They had a peasant vibe, all short white blouses and brown linen shorts, rather than a nightclub look. I understood the reference to lederhosen and the short blouses worn under dirndls but the costumes didn’t look great close-up in the bars or on stage.

When I saw the original cast with Eddie Redmayne, who basically aped Joel Grey’s performance, and Jessie Buckley, who shrieked her way through the performance and wore awful clothes, I wasn’t particularly impressed either. But it was better than last night.

The atmosphere last night was a bit flat amongst the audience as well. Maybe that’s Tuesday nights at the theatre. There were no encores, polite applause and no vibe in the pre-show immersive theatre in the bars. I was also disappointed that the audience didn’t dress up. I liza-ed up, wearing: Schiaparelli pink Vampires Wife silk blouse, a padded shoulder Anthropologie (on sale) coat and a bowler hat with pink glitter eye shadow. I got compliments from other members of the audience. Come on guys, make an effort. The audience is part of the experience.

Drinks were expensive. I ordered interval drinks and crisps: a beer, a small glass of wine and crisps came to £26. The beer came in a beautiful bottle and the Savoursmiths crisps were in a tin (Salt and Vinegar was really good) so not as much of a rip off as I feared. The glass of wine at £13 though…

I actually fell asleep for part of the show. I’d rather see the movie.

What’s happening with me:

I’m trying to exercise my broken hand which is now out of the cast but very swollen. This includes typing and cooking. When I did an SAS type survival course the instructor said that most soldiers would prefer to lose a leg rather than an arm. I get it now. When I’ve broken my ankle, it’s annoying but not nearly so immobilising as having a broken wrist. I’m sorry for the halt in posts: this is the longest time I’ve been off social media since 2008.

Would people be interested in an Ask Me Anything live about my Japanese pilgrimage? I’ll set up a date.

Cooking:

Soup

I’ve been making a lot of soups, using the Vitamix.

I’ve made:

Carrot and preserved lemon soup

Butternut squash soup

Cauliflower cheese soup

Recipes in this link.