Vamp
Merlyn Theatre, CUB Malthouse
September 4 - 22, 2008

Meow Meow enters from the audience. She wears black fishnet tights, and a shimmering silver gown with matching sparkled eye shadow. She wails and smokes as she puts her leg up on an audience member’s chair, thrusting her crotch into the old lady’s face. The actress grabs the head of her dead boyfriend.

This is Vamp. Part cabaret, part concert, and part morbid indulgence.

Meow Meow is an entity. She is award winning, has traveled the world, and well known in Melbourne from her performances at The Famous Spigeltent in 2005 and 2006. She is larger than life. She fills the room with her presence, her personality, her songs, laughter and mischief.

In a smaller room, or a different atmosphere, this would have been enough. But this is a full-scale production, complete with a large staircase up the centre, elaborate couture (set and costumes designed by Anna Tregloan), a five-piece band, and a harness, which allows her to fly. Added to this are many references to previous femme fatales - Eve being tempted by the snake and Oscar Wilde’s version of the Salome story, to name a couple.

As spectacular as this all sounds, it just didn’t seem to fit. Not to say that in their own right every element wasn’t stunningly executed. But it just wasn’t the right venue, or the right mix.

First, the average age of the audience was around 60, probably subscribers and wealthy to take a guess (I did go on a Wednesday evening), and they didn’t seem to want to participate in Meow’s antics. Her frequent pleas for help and her murmurs of “it’s going to be a long night” didn’t make an impact.

Then, the venue itself: The Malthouse’s Merlyn Theatre is a large round room in which the seating is moved around to suit the production. With the decision to make the audience around three sides of the jetted-out stage, came the decision to exclude close to two thirds of the audience from seeing the special effect created by Meow Meow flying through the air in a harness with the backdrop of a large moon (which I imagine would have been amazing had I been sitting head on to see it).

The original music by Meow and Iain Grandage was haunting, if a bit boring at times. I wish the talented band members (Orchestra of Wild Dogs - Sam Anning, Iain Grandage, Martin Kay, Igor Oskolkov, Ben Vanderwal) had a more upfront presence. Being relegated to the back corners didn’t give them the credit they deserved - a more prominent position might also have helped with more interaction between Meow and the musicians.

There were some really striking moments. Her final song (although it wasn’t original - a Radiohead cover, I believe), where she just stood and sang, was eerily touching. And Meow was lit beautifully as she flew higher and higher, with a black lace veil wrapped over her head and shoulders, up from the ground (even from the side - credit to lighting designer Paul Jackson).

The costumes were characters in themselves. At one point Meow Meow made her entrance from a door in the Moon wearing a black tutu with small, amputated doll arms and legs attached to it. In another instance she entered with a neon red fox stole, ending on one side with tiny heads of perhaps those same dolls.

There were also some funny moments - the money shot comes to mind. Her interaction with the audience was precious, although it started to get a bit old after the first few attempts because her choice was pretty much restricted to the first row (which unfortunately included one creepy man who tried to feel Meow up).

Meow’s voice is striking, and its presence grand. But it became overly staged (I’m not sure whether this is due to director Michael Kantor). A more intimate venue where the audience could eat, drink and feel freer to interact would have suited her better. I would happily sacrifice the cool special effects for more connection to what Meow and her version of the tragic Vamp is all about.

Note: I wish I’d read the program notes, especially regarding Oscar Wilde’s version of Salome’s story, before I saw the production. They help explain some of the more obscure references.