Cabaret review: Eddie Redmayne and Omari Douglas lead ‘thrilling’ West End revival

Words: Simon Button; pictures: Marc Brenner

To host the latest production of Cabaret London’s Playhouse Theatre has been transformed into the Kit Kat Klub of 1920s Berlin and just entering the venue is an experience in itself. I won’t say too much, because it’s one of many surprises it would be churlish to spoil for Cabaret virgins, but you pass through a warren of winding corridors and divinely decadent bars where the ensemble are on pre-show duties.

Then there’s the auditorium itself which, giving minimum spoilers, has a centre stage which revolves and raises like a three-tiered cake and which is surrounded by tables at top price and tiered seating for the hoi polloi.

It’s through said stage that Eddie Redmayne’s Emcee rises during the opening number ‘Willkommen’. Our host for the evening, he is nothing like the impish Joel Grey in the film version nor anything like the naughtily sexy Alan Cumming in the London and Broadway revivals of the original stage musical.

No, Redmayne’s master of ceremonies is a physically twisted pierrot with a pointed party hat atop his red wig, spitting out lyrics like ‘in here life is beautiful, the girls are beautiful, even the orchestra is beautiful’ with sinister glee.

His angular, androgynous beauty has never been better used and he’s mesmerising – the very epitome of a decaying Berlin as Weimer decadence is about to be trampled underfoot by the Nazi Party.

Into this world of clubs, boarding houses and anything-goes promiscuity comes American writer Clifford Bradshaw, whose pansexuality in the hands of the engaging Omari Douglas is made more explicit than in previous productions.

He soon meets Sally Bowles, the Kit Kat Klub’s British headliner who is as soaked in booze and popular with the men as she is desperate for love and self-deluded about her talents. And as played by Jessie Buckley, she’s a Sally we’ve never seen before – neither as flirtatiously in-your-face as Liza Minnelli in the movie nor, say, as loveably ditzy as Michelle Williams in the 2014 Broadway revival.

When Buckley’s Bowles sings ‘Maybe This Time’ she’s desperately sad and when she belts out ‘Cabaret’ she’s angry and bitter that the pretence of her perfectly marvellous life is crumbling apart. Hers is a star turn that doesn’t pull focus but serves the material at every step.

And under the direction of Rebecca Fracknell the material is given thrilling new life. She blurs the line between what’s happening on the Kit Kat stage and in the streets and dwellings of Berlin, darkens the tone so that the Emcee’s invitation to ‘leave your troubles outside’ becomes stingingly ironic and – with the help of Tom Scutt’s extraordinary costumes – slowly drains the colour from this rotting milieu.

There’s one thread of light in the lovely romance between the elderly German landlady Fraulein Schneider and Jewish fruit vendor Herr Schultz (a wonderfully matched Liza Sadovy and Elliot Levey) but, with the Far Right on the rise, he becomes a target for hatred. And when the always-brilliant Anna-Jane Casey sings the lilting ballad ‘Married” (in perfect German no less) it’s tinged with sadness.

Coming at a time when our own world is full of uncertainty, this take on Cabaret feels timely. It stirs with its magnificent music, dazzling production values and incredible performances but it leaves us shaken to the core.

Rating: 5/5

Cabaret is at the Kit Kat Klub, London. For tickets click here.