Taylor Mac is a beautiful man of the night. Bedecked in sparkling jewels, his face, clothes, smile and eyes shimmer with mystery and magic. Somewhere between an opulently decorative mannequin, a very masculine male and a defiant drag queen, Taylor Mac is something ‘other’. Tricky to define, he makes darkness beautiful and makes sorrow sparkle.

Taylor Mac stands on a stage with his ukulele and sings. His songs are of his life and times – of his miseries and of his joys. He sings to make the sad people happy and the happy people sad. As long as, in the end, everyone celebrates being a bit of both. It is a truly absorbing performance. What kind of performance is, I think, up to you. He calls it theatre, so I am happy to call it that too. He tells stories, through pictures and song and monologue, that speak to you on an intangibly poetic level. In using song and music to touch upon the invisible threads that tie us all together, Taylor Mac reminds us that we are one group of people, sitting together, living through the same things and smiling as best we can; even, and especially, when the tears trickle down our faces.

Nearing the end of the show, he comes closer to us and sits down on the steps so he, too, can be part of this group. Bringing with him that twinkle to all that lies in shadow, his final lyric is: ‘Everything is going to be alright’. It is hard not to believe him. Why bother trying? Surrender yourself to the Mac and emerge from the Underbelly Caves smiling, rubbing your eyes and wanting to kidnap Taylor, take him home, make him a nice cup of hot chocolate and insist that he becomes your best friend. And stays your best friend. Forever.