COHEN, BERNSTEIN, JONI & ME
Upstairs at the Gatehouse
★★★★
“an extraordinarily uplifting show”
Coming away from Deb Filler’s one woman show, I find myself wanting to invent a word: ‘Raconteurism’. I google it to make sure that it doesn’t exist. It doesn’t, so I feel satisfied that I have invented it. But my main feeling of satisfaction stems from having just spent an hour and a half in the company of a woman who takes ‘raconteurism’ to new heights. Filler surely has a master’s in ‘raconteurism’. Witty, self-deprecating, engaging, funny, poignant, trivial and crucial in equal measure. “Cohen, Bernstein, Joni & Me” is a love letter, not just to the three icons that have influenced her, but also to her family and her heritage. Almost a hymn to Yiddish culture and her own story that has been shaped by it.
As you’d expect from the title, music takes a prominent role, although she plays little. The guitar is more of a prop that she uses to punctuate her free-flowing repartee with pertinent lyrics from the likes of Leonard Cohen, Joni Mitchell and even Peter, Paul and Mary (the latter are excluded from the title of the show – despite the influence they may have had on a nine year old Deborah in the small suburb of Mount Roskill in Auckland, New Zealand).
She seems genuinely and humbly thrilled that we have turned up to see her on a wet January evening in London. But, to use the polite English cliché; the pleasure is entirely ours. Filler fills (excuse the pun) the space with her warm and generous personality but makes room to populate the stage with the many characters she has met on her life’s journey. It is a fascinating listen from start to finish. Her father was a Holocaust survivor but somehow, she states, he continued life without bitterness. It was music that sustained him. These traits of endurance and hope are echoed in Filler’s own story as she leads us through the musical milestones of her story, and the impact that they had on her.
First up is Leonard Bernstein. Filler recounts a story of how her father watched a performance, in 1948, of Bernstein conducting Gershwin’s ‘Rhapsody in Blue’ to concentration camp survivors at the Feldafing Displaced Persons Camp, and how it made him believe it was possible to build a new life after the war. Later, when Filler was at teacher training college in Auckland, she relates this to Bernstein himself who, in turn, wishes to meet her father. Her father is too busy at work in his bakery to accept, but sends a freshly baked challah (Jewish bread) to Bernstein. The significance of all this is later revealed by Filler in a heart-wrenching anecdote (sorry… no spoiler I’m afraid). An almost fleeting moment, but a tear-jerking insight into Jewish culture that conveys a wealth of personal history.
It is a show of stark contrasts, and for the most part is filled with laughter. Raunchy Jewish jokes pepper the monologues and song fragments. It seems that humour and music has sustained her. Peter, Paul and Mary gave her the catalytic thumbs up to pursue a career in the performing arts. In her inimitable style she eschews telling us about her achievements, and instead prefers to focus on the chance meetings with some of the great musical icons of the twentieth century. Her desperation to be backing singer to Joni Mitchell is hilariously woven into her deadpan delivery of her numerous dead-end jobs in New York. Moonlighting as a limo driver, she picks up Leonard Cohen and single-handedly very nearly deprives the world of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah”. The seemingly chaotic and accidental collisions invariably lead to life-long allegiances in which favours are repaid and loyalty abides. We are fascinated by Filler, and transfixed to her every word. There is nostalgia without sentimentality and there is brutal honesty. But above all, hers is a great story told with greater humour.
We don’t know if she ever found her dream but, like she says, a ‘dream is the prelude to finding your own voice’. Filler has definitely found hers and it is a delight and a privilege to be one of the ones she shares it with. She never claims to compare her own journey to her forebears, but mixing her family’s dramatic backstory into her own gives her the licence and qualities of an important spokesperson for the legacy of her predecessors. We would like to hear more of her singing – her vocal talents match her acting versatility. Slipping into ‘Both Sides Now’ she sounds eerily like Joni Mitchell. She gives us a few bars of a self-penned breakup song. And, of course, we are treated to Cohen’s ‘Hallelujah’; the only full-length musical number. Sung in Yiddish up to the final verse when we are invited to join in. We feel like a group of her friends now, over whom she has held court for a little while, sharing her stories. “Cohen, Bernstein, Joni & Me” is an extraordinarily uplifting show. An unforgettable story. An unforgettable evening.
COHEN, BERNSTEIN, JONI & ME
Upstairs at the Gatehouse
Reviewed on 21st January 2026
by Jonathan Evans
