Reuben Kaye – the sumptuous, bedazzled prince of cabaret comedy — wishes to invite you to a spectacle, nay a coronation, or perhaps a serenade of expectations.
It doesn’t seem to matter how you try to categorise his new show Apoclypstick; it dances like an overstimulated ballet dancer in a pas de deux with his own self-reckoning.
A full backing band accompanies Kaye’s ascent to glory as he passes down the absurdities of politics both modern and old, ridiculing Stalinesque imagery with Rocky Horror absurdity, a half-broken disco ball twirling like a farewell above Kaye’s biting wit and his trademark deliciously sardonic drawl – a sure sign of queer excellence if there ever was one.
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Kaye’s show ultimately is about several things: fabulous men, family wit in lit of great trauma, sensuous musical interludes and heightened morbidity, and most of all, a unique talent at integrating with the audience, heightening the humour with nary a breath wasted.
Whilst the audience at the show I attended was not as enthusiastic as was probably expected (it was, after all, at the Malthouse—pristine as always I suppose) Kaye didn’t allow it to perturb his energy. If a joke didn’t land as well, it was on to the next with plenty more energy and vivacious sass.
Part of the joy of this year’s comedy show is seeing how many beautiful and beautifully talented queer performers are out there right now, setting the world alight with their rancorous love of humanity. Rueben Kaye is just another tile on this beautiful, exquisite tapestry.
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