Fabulous Creatures
Charybdis, Siren, and Scylla ‘used to kill’ but now they ‘cabaret’ in this play-cum-cabaret performance from Collide Theatre. What ensues, however, is not quite cabaret enough: it’s more like ‘diet cabaret’. The bass doesn’t thump loud enough, the music never quite catches on, and, while dazzling and full of otherworldly, theatrical potential, both set and costumes don’t quite respond to the brief of this radical re-telling of Greek mythology.
We begin with our host for the night, Charybdis (Hannah Van Der Westhuysen). As a whirpool monster from the high seas and one of the most difficult creatures to personify, edgy geometric makeup design (courtesy of Teck Kroll) alludes to Charybdis’ great power. Their sparkly black-gold trousers, bejeweled fishnet bodice, and a slew of space buns in a rocker mohawk formation is something that ‘karma’-era Jojo Siwa would envy. Siren (Jazz Jenkins) is an apt foil: all in pink satin, a whopping, semi-deconstructed underskirt, and enormous white feathered fan to accessorise, she is a picture of classical elegance. Scylla is not quite full ‘furry’, but she is certainly getting there: covered in a tan skin-coloured leotard, they have only the most important bits covered in brown fur and hair. The costumes (Ismini Papaioannou), as pristine as they are, might just be too proper to be dubbed ‘cabaret’. Typically, you might think of a night at the cabaret as dingy, raunchy, and full of DIY costumes, props, and scenography. In this performance, though, it was impossible to not notice the perfection of the sparkly blue curtain, emulating the deep, ‘wine dark’ sea, or the funky, geometric red rug, emblematic of the blood spilt and men killed by these gorgeous creatures. Though expertly done, much of the design stripped this cabaret of the grime and dirt that one expects from the genre.
Complicating the vibe of the show further is its soundtrack, which, similar to the design elements, comes across as almost too polished. Perhaps it was the sound levels on my night, but there was something about the music itself that felt canned, contained, and nowhere near ‘live’ enough to rise to the cabaret brief. Irene Skylakaki’s sound design does fill the transitions with a thumping energy that adds immensely to the underworld scene; the music, on the other hand, either lacks character or is a far cry from the characters themselves. The creatures sing, for instance, ‘just give us a little death’, alluding to some sexual dissatisfaction, but so far what we have learned is that the creatures kill only men who have done bad deeds. So where does the sexual innuendo factor into the wider tale?
On top of the music and design, there is also the issue of story. Fabulous Creatures, really, is half-cabaret, half-straight play. After a few musical numbers, the curtain is pulled back and a dressing room reveals the backstage area. Charybdis and Siren are decompressing just as a mystery guest comes in, who will soon be revealed as a mortal intruder. The mortal (also played by Kate Newman) requests that the creatures come out of retirement for a brief moment to execute her devilish husband nicknamed ‘The Butcher’. What ensues is a B plot that soon replaces the main plot entirely, with all three creatures lamenting those rare ocassions in which they have failed to execute the bad men (remember Odysseus?). What originates as a radical reimagining quickly spirals into something more confused about what it actually is.
The text holds much promise in the beginning, as Charybdis invites in those ‘dwellers of half-spaces, the dark places…’ — almost as if they were calling in every ounce of ‘queerness’ in their audience. That radical callout is quickly dampened with cheesy, panto-like lines like, ‘Can I get a whoop woop?’ As with most elements in the piece, its brimming with glitzy potential but quickly dampened by something more canned and commercial.
⭐️ ⭐️ ⭐️
Fabulous Creatures is playing at Arcola Theatre until 15 June. More information and tickets can be found here.
