The encore is such a ritual these days that it’s
almost meaningless. Yet there I was, bellowing for more - and off my bum in
a standing ovation no less - for Helen Medlyn and Penny Dodd last night. Very
uncool.
The two had primed us so well on a cabaret journey through the human heart,
Dodd at the grand piano and Medlyn in drag as a man about town caught and
wounded by love.
I’m stuck on you, Like blood on a bandage, Crud on a fender, Guacamole
on the blades of a blender.
She’s the package, Medlyn - great voice and superb acting skills. It’s
a rare talent that can hop genres like this with integrity. She delivers that
sweet Beatles number Norwegian Wood with as much aplomb as the grand aria
Cara Sponsa from Handel’s Rinaldo.
Or she can take the mood down with a James Taylor lullaby. An elegant dialogue
about undressing a lover slides seamlessly into Billy Joel’s Always
A Woman to Me. None of this wacky juxtaposition seems at all odd. The audience
was spellbound. Our jaded playboy drifts into the dark side with the Masochism
Tango.
I ache for the touch of your lips, But even more for the lick of your
whips.
Inevitably, he winds up as The Oldest Swinger in Town, who rubs in Deep Heat
where he used to splash Brut.
The audience was in stitches for both these songs, but we were in for a bigger
treat with the first encore, Handyman.
Medlyn, perched atop the piano, panted and gushed and stammered her way through
Alberta Hunter’s raunchy number about a lover who can deal to the rough
edges on her front lawn. The steam was almost dripping off the tent roof.
Comic acting at its best.
In keeping with the eclectic evening, she finished off with a torch-song,
The Nearness of You.
This was a one-off show, so all I can urge you to do is bank this advice:
if it comes back, see it.
And happy birthday, Penny. In a lovely pre-show moment, the audience sang
her best wishes.