In an incredibly vibrant show at the Bram Goldsmith Theatre, Meow Meow shows why her musical mayhem is the best unbridled prescription for an intoxicating holidaze.
By John Lavitt
Beverly Hills, CA (The Hollywood Times) 12-18-2024
From the moment she appeared, Meow Meow had the Beverly Hills crowd at the Wallis Annenberg Center for the Performing Arts in the palm of her hand. Deconstructing by becoming the mythology of the classic chanteuse, the singer-performer was a bit piqued when she first took the stage. After all, didn’t we know who she was, and didn’t we bring flowers to throw on stage to celebrate her arrival? Good Lord, what else would a classic chanteuse expect of her adoring audience, and how is she to go on if she is not genuinely beloved like the stars of old?
Complaining loudly under her breath, she storms off stage, only to return holding a massive bouquet of three dozen red roses. Distributing them among those seated in the front show, she demands a do-over and leaves the stage. Her piano player introduces her again, “From the opium dens of Shanghai to the back rooms of Berlin, here is the international singing sensation herself,” Meow Meow prances once again on stage in a fabulous dress with all the proper and shiny accouterments.
When the front row fails to start throwing the flowers, she orders them to do so with passion and love. At the same time, please be careful, she pleads, and avoid hitting her face. Overall, such an entrance is a grand introduction to a night of entertainment hubris, failed expectations, and stirring music. Indeed, from beginning to end, she captures the audience’s attention with an emotional desperation and a fantastic voice that combine for a roller-coaster ride of a show.
A chanteuse demands audience appreciation, yet Meow Meow takes it one step further by demanding audience participation. At one point, she brings two middle-aged men up on stage to stroke her as she sings a ballad. Enjoying every moment in the spotlight, the two men create a ridiculous tableau of fumbling and comedic adoration. Hence, the deconstruction of the chanteuse happens with the audience involved in each minor catastrophe. Such emotional involvement fosters a deep empathy for Meow Meow that characterizes the entire show.
From the beginning to the end, the show is broken up not only by songs that range from the anthems of the failed Weimar Republic anthems to French romantic ballads but also by comedic bits. Each one is a success for Meow Meow, from the stripping of her borrowed dress that needs to be returned to the clothing designer to the absence of her famous friends, including Alan Cumming and Rufus Wainwright, to show up as a backing chorus. Nothing seems to quite fall into the proper place for the chanteuse, yet she bounces back from each disappointment.
In the end, Meow Meow showed remarkable faith in her aged audience by crowd surfing. Indeed, this was the last place this reviewer ever expected to see crowd surfing, and somehow, it worked out well, with nobody getting hurt. Meow Meow did warn us of a potential nipple slip before diving into the crowd, but she also avoided the travails of Janet Jackson at the Super Bowl. Indeed, in a fantastic and hilarious show with incredible music, she entertained her audience at The Wallis with a post-modern deconstruction of the mythology of the chanteuse.
Photos by Kevin Parry (Courtesy of The Wallis)
Terri and Jerry Kohl generously make musical performances by Meow Meow and many others at The Wallis possible with their ongoing support.
