Ça Va
Presented by: Joanne O’Callaghan for the Melbourne Fringe Festival
Venue: The Butterfly Club
Reviewer: Susanna Nelson
Date Reviewed: Monday 6th October 2008
 

South Melbourne’s little gem, The Butterfly Club is the perfect setting for this little piece of Vaudeville, replete with its dusty books, sailing ships in corked bottles and exotica from the colonies of old: voodoo wood carvings, Chinese wall hangings and scary-looking anatomically incorrect dolls with spears. The little bar at the back beckons for a quick pre-show drink and then we are ushered through to the tiny velvet draped theatre.

This one-woman show – part cabaret, part gentle stand-up – calls for the audience to be transported to the early twentieth century, the era of Edith Piaf and Louise Brooks, of smoky bars and silent films; a time when French maids actually dressed in fetching black mini-dresses with white broderie anglaise trim and bobbed black hair was mandatory. In many ways this is a character so familiar as to be cliché – the lovelorn woman-child with a knack of falling for the wrong man, the clumsy, yearning dreamer, the tart with a heart. But Joanne O’Callaghan, as our feisty heroine Elaine, wills you to come along for the hour-long ride.

O’Callaghan is immediately engaging, entering down the cramped isle of the theatre belting out a show tune and simultaneously entering into patter with the audience. It’s hard to tell if the people she interacts with are plants or whether they are members of the general public. But she never misses a beat, managing to turn a couple of apparently unscripted moments to her advantage and eliciting wry chuckles and genuine laughs here and there as she weaves her tales of love, loss and waitressing through a semi-familiar soundtrack which features such standards as ‘Que Sera’ and, of course, ‘La Vie En Rose’.

Cameron Thomas tinkles the ivories on the upright piano as O’Callaghan fills the room with her powerful voice and physical presence. There’s no dancing as such, but lots of movement and rushing around as Elaine acts out her vignettes – carrying the show along on a wave of Gallic charm.

Although the show is advertised as ‘Vulgar brass with just a little sass’, it has a gentle, variety show feel – like an episode of the Muppets or the Two Ronnies – with splashes of comedy and well-timed pathos. There’s little plot to speak of but like the aforementioned television classics, there doesn’t need to be. It’s sweet and safe.

There is something fearless about O’Callaghan – perhaps it is the protective costuming that allows her to seem simultaneously vulnerable and gutsy, natural and staged all at once. She lives the character completely, never missing a beat or dropping her accent or demeanour when interacting with the audience, so that it seems that this little songbird from another era, with her twinkling eyes, quick-fire delivery and perfect pitch, really is straight off the streets of gay Pa-ree.

The finalé sees our heroine discard the props that have bound her to us for the last hour – the false eyelashes, black wig and de trop (though admirably consistent) French accent – and belt forth one final number as her natural red curls cascade around her face. For all the accoutrements she has used to weave her story, this is the most powerful number of the show. 


 Susanna is a Trades Journalist by day and a culture vulture and reviewer of just about anything by night. Since her days as a cinema student she has had two passions - writing and singing. Writing pays the bills, but if she were ever offered the opportunity to tread the boards in a Broadway musical, she’d turf out her Mac in an instant.

 

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