SABRAGE
Lafayette
★★★★
“a stream of virtuosity, acrobatics, dancing, singing, burlesque, gravity-defying feats, sassiness, sexiness and humour is unleashed onto the stage”
‘Lafayette’ is a name that conjures exoticism, glamour, and a Parisienne ‘je-ne-sais-quoi’; mixed in with the ‘big-easy’ hedonism of New Orleans. But tucked away in London’s King’s Cross, Lafayette is a music venue with a difference. Established five years ago by Ben Lovett, it has always veered towards embracing a more eclectic theatricality; its traditional roots seeking out the avant-garde. Teaming up with ‘Strut and Fret’ and the Menier Chocolate Factory, it has met its match with “Sabrage”, a unique, salacious and somewhat chaotic theatre experience that bewilders and bewitches in equal measure.
We are led through an unmarked, leather-padded doorway, down a rabbit warren of corridors, and into a Speakeasy. From there – with a cocktail thrust into our hand – we are ushered into the auditorium. The air is as effervescent as the drinks. The definition of ‘Sabrage’ is the ceremonial practice of opening a champagne bottle with a sabre. And with a flourish, that action begins the show. It takes a little while, however, for the co-hosts to rise to our expectations. Spencer Novich and Remi Martin (which may or may not be his real name) are trying just a touch too hard while slipping into ‘Eurotrash’ style caricature and over-egging the audience participation. Their banter dominates. The acts are a sideshow. We want the balance redressed. Maybe there was an emergency meeting during the interval, for the second act is a different beast altogether. The pace feels as though it has been shaken up in a magnum of the finest Bollinger and a stream of virtuosity, acrobatics, dancing, singing, burlesque, gravity-defying feats, sassiness, sexiness and humour is unleashed onto the stage.
Novich’s and Martin’s talents are truly revealed, particularly Novich during an ingenious, rapid-fire and completely absurd lip-synch routine. Emma Phillips performs some quite stunning juggling acts with a set of Chinese parasols, using just her feet. But she doesn’t stop there. A solid wooden table is the next prop, to which Phillips somehow manages to give the gift of graceful flight as she spins it into the air from one foot to the other. Flynn Miller and Kimberley Bargenquast are a strikingly charismatic aerial duo whose movements through the air are precise yet hauntingly and musically erotic. Christian Nimri dances like an acrobat on his roller-skates, while Skye Ladell and Cherise Adams-Burnett complement their own dancing artistry with fine vocal skills. All individual acts, they frequently overlap and combine into spectacular ensembles. Under Scott Maidment’s inventive direction it is sometimes hard to believe that the cast is composed of just eight performers.
The erratic nature of the show throws up many moments of downright silliness too. A trio of French maids writhe to a disco beat with dusters and aerosols. And throughout the show, plenty of flesh is shown. Even, at one point, a certain part of the (male) anatomy is transformed into a bizarre percussion instrument. Thankfully (depending on your penchant) this is more heard than seen – but our imaginations are nonetheless left underused. Oh, and if you are more than a little apprehensive about being singled out in the audience, there isn’t much escape. But by the time this show has found its feet and is in full swing, escape is far from our minds. “Sabrage” is a spectacle that draws you in. A fair bit of pruning at the outset wouldn’t go amiss. It’s an acquired taste but after the initial discomfort it goes down smoothly. A heady mix – laced with bubbles. Not quite cabaret, not quite circus, but an intoxicating blend that can’t fail to get corks popping.
SABRAGE
Lafayette
Reviewed on 26th March 2025
by Jonathan Evans
Photography by Matt Crockett