Vive le Cabaret@Ghillie Dhu

Vive le Cabaret indeed! This special evening is everything a cabaret should be. The wonderfully talented Dusty Limits provides a healthy dose of political satire with his Eurovision routine. Pretending to be a recent immigrant from the Eastern Bloc, and aided by his typically overenthusiastic back-up dancers ‘Svetlana’ and ‘Ivanka’, he belts out ironic lyrics such as “I am a Euro Star. I am the proof that Europe works!”. Stand-up Will Hodgson attacks the opposite side of the political spectrum with his jab at the BNP: “They’re not skinheads…they’re dickheads with alopecia!”. Nice.

The comedy is refreshingly intelligent throughout, and unlike the material of too many Fringe comedians, doesn’t resort to vulgarity to disguise a lack of talent. Yet it is deliciously risque and subversive, and deals with issues on the margins of society. The rightfully reigning King of Cabaret Des O’ Connor performs two hilarious songs about ‘alternative’ sexual preferences: the first, a duet with Dusty Limits, uses impressive words, clever rhymes and Freudian ideas to explain and justify their mother-son relationship, while the second gives necrophilia a similar treatment.

A phenomenon which seems tame in comparsion, but which is still not accepted into the mainstream, is male stripping, and men using their sexuality to entertain. Thankfully, Vive le Cabaret operates a ‘gender equality’ policy, and features a ‘boylesque’ act by the simmeringly sexy Spencer Maybe. Sadly, but not unsurprisingly, he doesn’t strip as bare as do women burlesque performers.

O’Connor boasts that at Vive, they like their burleque to be a bit more dangerous, a bit more raunchy — and Peekaboo Pointe, the sole female burlesque performer of the night, certainly hits the mark. Pippa the Ripper, though not strictly a burlesque performer, also embodies these characteristics with her raw, bad-ass attitude and tricks such as squeezing a spinning hula hoop to a sudden halt between her thighs.

Despite all the above, the evening isn’t perfect. The cancan and dancing from Gypsy Charms and Viva Misadventure could be more polished, and Taylor and Taylor’s opera version of Pulp Fiction, though entertaining, would benefit from less cheese. Mr. B the Gentleman Rhymer is most funny when rapping, which puts his uber-posh accent on display. Unfortunately, the accent gets lost when he sings, and the songs drag on, sustained only by his dapper outfit and big glasses.

Even when the action on stage is less than thrilling, the audience can soak up the luxurious atmosphere of Ghillie Dhu. They can order dinner and drinks to enjoy while watching the performance, and can let their gaze wander around the majestic room with its vaulted ceiling, chandeliers and ornate pipe organ. However, most of the time their attention is held by the impressive quality, variety and talent on stage, which leaves everyone wanting more.