It’s true that often the most anticipated events of the Sydney Festival is hidden within the beautiful transient walls of The Famous Spiegeltent – and it appears that 2012 is not the year of the dragon, but the year of the cat.

Internationally celebrated and nationally adored Cabaret diva Meow Meow’s Little Match Girl a few days into the festival has already sold out. It’s hardly surprising with the mixture of the venue’s intimate old world charm and Meow Meow’s deep and devastating voice – and extensive talent carried by her band of accomplices including Mitchell Butel.

With the premise “Can a song change the world?” this selection of songs which swings from Porter to Washington with a glittering crystal thread of shatteringly confronting audience interactions. Wheeled out and woken up – Meow Meow is the ultimate globe-trotting star – barely conscious of where she is and what/who she’s done. She’s a glamourous shambles – rattling out tunes in German or english – or both. Fishnetted legs that splay and kick, eyes that flash and accuse, a voice that caresses and chides – she is two sides of the coin flipping and turning, turning and flipping.

Before long, the light – beautiful and fractured through the many faces of a grand crystal chandelier – fails her. Fails us. We are left in the dark. Now blind we laugh at her show must go on gusto whilst hoping salvation is not too far away.

Flip to the story of the Little Match Girl – Hans Christian Andersen’s story of a little girl’s last moments of hope and imagination before dying alone and rejected in the snow – and she barks “oh yes this story of a little girl dying in the snow at Christmastime is relevent to you in this hot post-apolocalyptic setting.”

the question is – what is a diva, a sexy, powerful, glittering femme fatale doing singing about despair and loneliness? What has social justice got to do with glamour?

And if you think beyond the footlights – it’s quite clear – Everything.

The life of an artist is often feast or famine – and the times of feast can offer little rest and respite from the demands of a hungry public. The times of famine are lonely and disheartening – and I can’t help but think of that dirty-voiced man in the Devonshire Street Tunnel singing Jimmy Cox’s jazz standard “Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out.” Fame, or “showbiz” so easilly swings between despair and loneliness – and perhaps that is where a performer’s compassion swells from?

It is true that the strength of every cabaret show to me is it’s blend of charisma, banter and at least one killer torch song. Meow Meow bright-eyed and sassy – sweetly barking at us: we love her for it. The banter is quick and controlled – she knows what she’s doing. And the song – well, the encore was magnificent caught in my throat and my heart and my gut like a long lost love or a cautionary tale for impulsive lovers, “Be Careful” by patty Griffin is worth holding your breath for…

The production itself is of a fairly sombre tone- and dramaturgically (though talented and cute) I questioned the role of the Stalker (Mitchell Butel). Little Match Girl is a
largely a solo story about being alone – and so for me, the interruption of this idea with a scond person felt a little extraneous – because my connection tot he performer (and to the person who’s shoulder and thigh i rubbed vigourously last night) is enough – and surely the point of why theatre exists? Are we not fans of Meow Meow because of her simultaneous blazing independence and yet co-dependence on the audience/co-creators?

What can a song do?

Fan the flames of hope? Delight? Reassure? Elevate us above the aching aging bodies we haul our hearts around in? Remind us that we all yearn, we all need, we all desire? But perhaps more importantly, above all else, inspire us to love.

Meow Meow’s Little Match Girl Teaser from Malthouse Theatre on Vimeo.