You couldn’t get more cabaret than a cabaret made up of performers who usually work behind a cabaret bar. Performers working behind bars and trying to break into the arts is a tradition. Singers, drag queens, and actors: The Phoenix Arts Club has an eclectic mix of staff. Having seen other shows here, the bar staff always seem as enthusiastic about what’s on stage as the paying audience; they must be itching to get up there themselves, and tonight we get to see what they’ve got.
Dan Fishlock hosts the first half with easy charisma, holding the room together with bumper music playing underneath as he swiftly introduces each act. Rather than giving each performer a long set, the show moves quickly, with acts on and off stage after a single number. It keeps the evening varied and engaging.
First up is Jade, delivering emotional vocals with a country song against a projected video of a moving road — as though we are driving along while she stands on the dashboard. The effect is mesmerising, and the screen is used effectively throughout the night.
At times, some of the vocals veer slightly off, but the relaxed cabaret style allows for this. Each act brings a new energy, and the rough-around-the-edges quality adds to the fun rather than detracting from it. A particularly funny moment comes when MISSFACE ends her performance by announcing she hopes we enjoy it so much we don’t notice she isn’t wearing heels: chunky shoes that make it look like she’s just come back from a woodland hike.
Tricia Wey keeps us on our toes, surprising us again and again with something weird and wonderful. She begins with a song accompanied by Fishlock on guitar, before suddenly breaking into a Yorkshire (ish) accent for a comic monologue about splitting the bill after an expensive meal. In the second half, her inner Miss Hannigan comes striding out for Annie’s“Little Girls,” which is a clear highlight — exactly the kind of unexpected camp fun you want from a cabaret night.
The drag acts span a range of styles. Donafella is beautiful and captivating, leaning into old Hollywood glamour with slow, elegant lip-syncing. During a rendition of Where’s My Husband, she breaks from her perfect poise to cry out, “Where is he?” — the sudden unravelling of that impenetrable glamour is both desperate and brilliant. MISSFACE, who hosts the second half, brings a clubbier energy, performing an original song — I Don’t Know God, He Doesn’t Know Me — against chaotic projected visuals. It is a little clumsy in execution, but fuelled by undeniable charisma. Later comes DELUNA, MISSFACE’s drag daughter. There is a clear family resemblance, but DELUNA adds a burst of youthful, manic energy, throwing herself into aggressive cartwheels and really getting the crowd going.
As Elisabeth Ellingsen herself puts it, she brings a jazzier tone to the evening, dripping in black sequins. In the second half, she performs The Man That Got Away alongside projected messages she has received from men on Hinge — bizarre and genuinely disconcerting in equal measure. It is a very of-the-moment concept; not particularly original, but undeniably funny. She is also the strongest vocalist of the night; her smooth voice never falters.
We also hear from event organiser Jeneevah, who performs one number with a pianist and another in front of the now-familiar screen, bringing a welcome moment of sincerity and emotion to the evening.
Part of the thrill of the arts is never knowing where the next talent will come from — the fantasy that the person shaking your cocktails could be the next Lady Gaga, or just another hopeful. This night leans fully into that idea. Maybe Gaga isn’t among us tonight, but there are plenty of performers here who feel far better suited to the stage than behind the bar.
Produced by: Josilyn “Jeneevah” Campbell
Published with The Reviews Hub
Rosie Wood 
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