Femme fatale Bernadette Byrne and half-man, half-woman Victor-Victoria are here to ‘educate and entertain the masses’ with a heady mix of sex, gin, and communism. Their feisty and ferociously funny cabaret show pulls together an enticing mix of self-penned tunes and covers of whatever takes their fancy or, as they put, it ‘shamelessly appropriated tunes from Brecht to Britney’, all mixed and mulched into a fizz of frenzied skits and turns that manage to be simultaneously sexy and a satirical debunking of our sexualised culture.

Victor-Victoria (or Victy as s/he is known) is a talented multi-instrumentalist who keeps the music flowing, moving from keyboards to accordion to musical saw with ease; and Bernadette sings her little heart out, pausing only to entertain us with an impression of ping-pong-ball-popping from, er, intimate places; or to tell a sorry tale of a hot-wax S&M session gone wrong; or to haul a poor innocent young man out from the audience to quiz on his fantasies of an ideal date with the diva herself.

In this sketch, Victor-Victoria plays the jealous lover adroitly (‘I’m Just a Jealous Guy’) with a series of put-downs muttered sarcastically in retort to Bernadette’s questions and the poor lad’s responses (Bernadette: ‘You seem very young.’ Young man: ‘Er, yeah.’ Victy: ‘He’s about 12.’ Then: ‘So what do you do?’ ‘I’m a student.’ ‘Of course you are!’ And then: ‘Of what?’ ‘English Literature.’ ‘Oh, he can read!’). And not only are the audience brought to the stage, the stage goes to the audience: Bernadette flinging herself with gay abandon into the arms of a man third-row-from-the-back (see, you are not safe just because you didn’t sit in the front row!) with a cry of ‘my yoga guru!’ – the ‘guru’ then serenaded with a madcap musical saw version of Madonna’s ‘Like a Virgin’.

And so it goes, one saucy interlude or salacious song leading seamlessly to the next – and should anyone be feeling that they might stray from the path of licentiousness, then the Little Red Book is here to help them back onto the path of sin…

It is of course all a delicious construct: Bernadette and her erstwhile lover Victy are assumed characters, but the pretence is carried through all of the duet’s public-facing activities (performances, PR, website) with meticulous care and attention to detail.

Thus, we learn on the website how ‘a mysterious incident involving her music teacher, a Bruce Springsteen song and a piece of percussion triggered some drastic physical changes in the teenaged Victoria’s appearance’ and that Bernadette ‘bought a one-way ticket to Europe the day they graduated from high school, and left in the dead of night [acquiring] many friends who were lovers, and lovers who were friends, willing to stand her a drink or two in return for a quick plink-plonk on her ukulele’. All marvellous stuff…

And apart from their immeasurable musical cabaret talents, the two artistes look absolutely fabulous. Valiant Victy carries off her sexual ambivalence with panache, and Beautiful Bernadette looks a bit like David Hoyle does Louise Brooks: all eyelashes, bob, and luscious lips.

A very seductive mix indeed! And at just 45 minutes long, a show that scurries by chock-a-block as it is with witty and well-executed vignettes. A success, a grand success!

East End Cabaret