Review: SOIR NOIR: A NIGHTCLUB CONFIDENTIAL, Crazy Coqs

Walking into the dimly lit room in a black suit and glittery top, David Rhodes somewhat resembles a funereal mirrorball. 

The playwright, actor and singer is not here, though, to bury the classics of the mid-twentieth century but to praise them and their creators. “Much of the greatest music of the 40s, 50s and 60s was first presented and developed around the piano at the private parties of New York and London’s social elite,” says Rhodes in the show’s blurb. How many of their hits Buddy Holly, Elvis Presley or The Beatles worked on in such refined company is unknown but that’s by the by in a show that began life in a town on the very tip of Cape Cod.

The most direct route from Boston to Provincetown is around 50 miles if one is willing to swim across the breezy waters or (more likely) take the ferry. The drive around the Cape Cod peninsula doubles the distance but might have inspired the rather languid nature of this tribute show.

As a writer, Rhodes is a man who knows how to take his time with words. This is no rat-a-tat-tat through the decades, more a hand-picked selection of songs befitting this hallowed space under Piccadilly. Like its New York counterparts 54 Below and Joe’s Pub, Crazy Coqs has often been the home for songbook cabarets which originated in the United States, including this one which was commissioned for the 2024 Provincetown Cabaretfest. 

In direct contrast to the circus and vaudeville wings of this art form, songbook has seen a marked dip in popularity over recent decades. America still has a national cabaret month but the celebrations are muted outside the Big Apple. Unlike its sexier cousins that have been boosted in the public eye by the likes of Britain’s Got Talent, songbook is now widely seen as something for the older generations, a way to revel in songs from the last century lovingly revived by talented singers. 

Its worst examples are either best suited to cruise ships or deserve the label “posh karaoke” while its best - Barb Jungr, Kate Dimbleby, Peter Straker - re-interpret iconic tracks through modern arrangements and renewed relevance. Rhodes’ latest Crazy Coqs outing sits between these two extremes and gives ample reasons why its fans still flock to this gradually fading form of entertainment.

The early part of Soir Noir gets us in the “P-town” mood. The self-proclaimed “gayest town in America” is famous for its beaches and harbour and there’s plenty here that celebrates  its perennial appeal. With a cheeky glint in his eyes, Rhodes kicks off with a fine rendition of John Forster’s “Entering Marion”. This wickedly camp number about a drive to Cape Cod recounts how the narrator makes his way there, not only entering Marion but Beverly (“lovely and not overbuilt”) before coming into “Lawrence/Then Quincy and Norton as well”. 

There’s some fantastic diction on display here - especially during Noël Coward’s tricky “I Went to A Marvellous Party” - as well as an elegant lightness as applied to the hoary chestnuts that are Cole Porter’s “I Get A Kick Out Of You” and Dusty Springfield’s “You Don't Have to Say You Love Me”. Throughout, there’s a sense that these songs have been part of Rhodes’ repertoire for decades, such is the way that he lovingly wraps his tongue around the words.

For all his experience, though, the singer has a notably limited vocal range. His tender assault on the Kurt Weill/Berthold Brecht standard “Mack The Knife” is intended to reflect on the seamier side of Provincetown but feels not so much like a mortal warning to run and flee the assassin as an FYI to anyone who happens to be in earshot. Similarly, there’s natural warmth to his take on Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” but even Radio 2 listeners would find it a little prosaic.

Accompanying on the piano, Simon Beck (introduced wittily as “the crème de la crème brûlée”) is an ebullient soul, happy to provide the musical ballast necessary to stop some of the lighter numbers floating out onto the London city streets above.

A star turn from the statuesque Jake Oswell (dressed in a stunning black evening dress and elbow-length gloves) lifts the roof with his bassy renditions of two numbers from 1967 cult film The Valley Of The Dolls. More than a few of the audience members lean that little bit more forward when he sings Tony Scotti’s fabulous lines “come live with me and be my love/If only for a day” while “I’ll Plant My Own Tree” (popularised by Judy Garland) is a fabulous treat.

Photo credits: Michael Lee Stever