The Imbolc Blues

Supper clubs and sarcastic compères may be the bread and butter of British cabaret, but they’re by no means the sum total of the scene. Predating challenging experiments like The Animals and Children Took to the Streets and The Blue Lady Sings, Night Kitchen Cabaret has been toying with the limits of the genre since 2007. As evidenced by The Imbolc Blues, the group’s fourth feature-length effort, no other company has accomplished such a thorough integration of cabaret and theatre.

In a near-mythical conflation of East London and the Irish countryside, Ruby Kitchen (played by writer-director Roses Urquhart) prepares to host another cabaret show…in her kitchen. Coming from a long line of vaudevillians, Ruby undauntedly confronts a series of bizarre incidents threatening the performance, like a galloping frost set to engulf her house and a virus spreading crippling melancholia. Herself infected, she races against the clock with the help of unpredictable oddball characters including a faithful boy assistant, an amazon-like swordsmith, a singing pirate and a haiku-reciting eel, approaching the moment where she’ll have to choose between saving herself and carrying on with the show.

The story is an ambitious frame that weaves together a wide variety of numbers. Soprano Kristina Mansbridge performs a bawdy parody of the Habanera from Bizet’s Carmen, greatly enhanced by her impressive virtuoso singing. Gentleman juggler Mat Ricardo, likewise, glows as the deceased uncle who comes back from the dead to find a young apprentice, acting with the same joyful verve and flawless timing from his already classic box-balancing act (also featured). Antics parade in quick succession, with musical director Paul Frankish playing an inspiring show-tune soundtrack live on the keyboards.

The unarguable peak of the evening, though, is the hilarious Circularity Thinking sketch, where Urquhart and hula hoop wonder Sharna Rose Bevan deliver a message from the show’s homonymous corporate sponsor, complete with pant suits and PowerPoint presentation. Pitching a revolutionary business paradigm based on the circus prop (or, as the company likes to call it, “thinking inside the circle”), the interlude’s spot-on, jargon-laden marketing parody is as compelling as Bevan’s jaw-dropping hoop exploits. Hands-down the most inventive and engaging hula hoop act I’ve ever seen. Corporate sponsorship, apparently, doesn’t always compromise artistic integrity.

The fourth instalment in the saga of the Kitchen family, The Imbolc Blues suffers occasionally from excessive self-reference. By the same token, its convoluted plot, profusion of characters and surreal humour can at times result in a baffling combination to follow. However, with sheep bursting into song, storytelling food re-enactments and actors flying around in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon-style swordfights (thanks to fellow cast members doubling as shameless black-clad, life-sized puppeteers), the show’s overwhelming narrative frame is unlikely to get in the way of your enjoyment.

The blurring of cabaret and theatre opens the door to myriad scenic possibilities. Many burlesque acts in the scene, for instance, could benefit from light changes, something that The Imbolc Blues excels in with its multi-cue lighting. In dramatic terms, the show’s feel-good ending and traditional light-hearted comedy make a successful counterpoint to its ingenious structure and bold language statements. Whether you call it post-modern vaudeville or immersive theatre, The Imbolc Blues is a concentrated dose of fun and frolic, at once sophisticated and accessible. Keep an eye out for episode five, because the Kitchen is not closing early, and bound to be in high demand.

Night Kitchen Cabaret Presents: The Imbolc Blues. Written and directed by Roses Urquhart. Clerkenwell Theatre, London. 27-30 Jan and 3-6 Feb, 19:45-22:45. £12. www.nightkitchencabaret.co.uk

Images courtesy of Night Kitchen Cabaret