CHAT NOIR!
The Lost Estate
★★★★★
“spellbinding and unmissable, reckless and eccentric, dangerous and outrageous, beautiful and Bohemian”
Le Chat noir est un célèbre cabaret de Montmartre fondé en Novembre 1881 par Rodolphe Salis. It has long been credited as the birth of ‘Cabaret’. Originally a dingy tavern in the heart of Montmartre, the founder Salis invited artists to come and experiment as they wish (whatever that may have meant). Satire, song and sin combined to form the new art form. Four years later, its success far from sanitised it. Instead, it moved to new premises becoming more decadent, more dangerous, and a mecca for artists and rebels.
That much is fact. ‘The Lost Estate’, that brought Charles Dickens’ “A Christmas Carol” to vivid life last December, now turn their hand at recreating the Bohemian underworld of Paris in West London. The imagined scenario is that Rodolphe Salis is reopening the club after a temporary closure. He is facing bankruptcy, illness, the changing times, disaster. Possibly even death. With time running out the stakes are high. He has invited the press in. What could possibly go wrong? Nothing. And yet everything.
In fact, minutes into the evening we can positively ascertain that everything will go right. ‘The Lost Estate’ haven’t so much brought 1890s Paris into 2020s London but have transported us back to the Fin de Siècle. West Kensington lies outside, long forgotten now, and inside is Montmartre. We are the painters and the poets, the drinkers and the aristocrats; among the velvet drapes, the absinthiana and the candlelight. Although – as we are proudly informed – this new-fangled discovery called ‘electricity’ provides most of the lighting tonight. What’s more, we are French, the performers are French, and miraculously we understand everything. We think we are hearing and speaking English but that’s just the smoke and mirrors (you probably thought the opening line of this review was written in French but in fact it is the only English sentence).
Sounds nonsense? Yet it is indicative of how convincingly this company have recreated the world it depicts. And the audience are more than eager to comply, judging by the dress code. Theatricality is key. Most audience members look as though they are up for an Olivier for costume design. But that still doesn’t detract from the spectacle that awaits. Rodolphe Salis (Joe Morrow) appears like a genie to guide us through the night. The evening, he explains, is structured in three parts, according to his mantra: Art, Absinthe and Anarchy. There are intervals to allow for the food to be served and the cocktails (such as ‘The Poison Rose’) to be replenished.
So – let’s take each step at a time. We need to pace ourselves – it’s a long evening. But Morrow has the stamina and the charisma to keep it – and us – going strong. His team comprise the Muse, the Mime, the Dancer, the Illusionist and the Pianist. Of course, it is Eric Satie himself (Alex Ullman) at the piano, accompanied by an extremely accomplished house band: ‘Les Enfants Vagabondes’, a quartet of violin, cello, accordion and percussion. The musicians are centre stage, sometimes roaming the space, but always underpinning the performances with their mix of Romaticism, Impressionism, Exoticism, Burlesque, Belle Époque and virtuosity. The cabaret performers themselves, drifting in and out of solo and ensemble, spring from the same melting pot of influences while staying loyal to Rodolphe Salis’ vision. Alexander Luttley’s mime is extraordinary, telling us whole stories – both tragic and comic – with his supple movements. Issy Wroe Wright, the chanteuse, transcends operetta with a voice and sassiness that soars in time to dancer Coco Belle’s high kicks. All the while, magician Neil Kelso weaves his magic in between the acts and the audience.
After the main course, they all come together as the atmosphere shifts. We are in the ‘absinthe-dream’ – a gorgeous interlude. Fluid, and interpretive with the movement and music married in perfect harmony. Claude Debussy’s ‘Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun’ is rearranged for the night-club troubadours; Wright’s soprano replacing the flutes, and each bar breathing its way into an almost hallucinogenic dream. It is an unexpected moment, but a highlight. We don’t notice them arriving, but absinthe fountains have miraculously appeared at our tables.
It isn’t long before the evening veers towards anarchy. Allegedly, the closing segment is unrehearsed and improvised. Of course, we know better, yet the misrule is convincing. Bizet’s ‘Carmen’ is given the ‘Reduced’ treatment, coupled with a ‘play-that-goes-wrong’ sensibility, before a finale that assures us that Salis is going to be okay – his future looks bright (despite a wonderful satiric episode mid show, depicting theatre critics as the devil incarnate). Joe Morrow, in one of his most exuberant moments as Rodolphe Salis, proclaims grandly that he ‘doesn’t care’ what the reviews say. In the narrative of the drama, the characters are fighting for their lives to save the club. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Instead, these performers are having the time of their life. And so are we. “Le Chat Noir” is an unparalleled evening of cabaret. A touch on the expensive side, maybe, unless you happen to be lucky enough to be one of Salis’ guests. But the show is spellbinding and unmissable, reckless and eccentric, dangerous and outrageous, beautiful and Bohemian. It may feel like I have overextended my word count here, but I have been holding back as much as I can. There is so much more. I would urge you to take the trip back in time to Montmartre as soon as you can. Before it is too late and this show has sold out. A joyous night of escapism.
CHAT NOIR!
The Lost Estate
Reviewed on 28th April 2026
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Nick Ray
