Review: Dancing Queen - A Tribute to ABBA
I arrive to see Dancing Queen: A Tribute to ABBA as a bit of a sceptic. When ABBA hit the airwaves, I was in primary school. Our class was split into Team ABBA and Team Bay City Rollers (when I say split, there were only 10 of us, and only about six cared about pop music, so…)
I was Bay City Rollers all the way.
But you can’t deny the power of ABBA. They have lasted longer than BCR, had more hits, and inspired inter-generational dedication. All of that is quite clear tonight. The sequins, singing and high energy are dazzling, and that’s just the audience pre-show.
First published on Theatreview, 30 Nov 2024
It’s clear that people are here to Party, helped by a mix of excellent pre-show tunes, I have to say.
My ‘date’ has cancelled late, so I sit alone, a little apprehensive that all this enthusiasm will lead to unspoken peer pressure to dance.
I am not sure of what to expect of this show, but the Showtime blurb tells me that this isn’t just a cover band; rather, a “full-scale concert production”. There are – naturally – four performers, who ‘act’ as the stars of ABBA – Agnetha, Frida, Benny and Bjorn. They are supported by small band of bass, drums, sax and keyboard (both performed by the same guy – his sax playing is amazing), and a female singer. It’s a tight crew and they provide superb support to ‘ABBA’.
In front of them tonight is a large, enthusiastic crowd and whilst there are many people born in the 60s, forget your stereotypes. There are people of every age and stage here, all of whom no doubt grew up with ABBA tunes – the original band, Muriel’s Wedding or Mama Mia the Musical. The appeal is wide, and the love and enthusiasm is clearly deep.
By song three (‘SOS’), people are up and dancing. The pressure is on. By the time ‘Dancing Queen’ comes on several tunes later, the band is encouraging everyone to their feet, where they remain for most of the remaining show.
Nothing misses a beat, ever. The ‘band’ deliver a well-rehearsed, well-timed and well-delivered performance. I find the scripted performer patter a bit cheesy, but I try to remember that this is a show – it’s not an off-the-cuff performance – and, regardless, it works. The ABBA performers engage the audience from the first time they speak (in Swedish accents) and the audience responds loudly and enthusiastically. Even the guy running the lighting deck is getting into the vibe.
A simple set, with a drum kit on a raised rear centre stage, and mikes and ‘Benny’s’ white piano up front, leave space for the band to be literally centre stage. An AV screen provides a backdrop, featuring abstract AV effects a la the opening credits of Ready to Roll (another trip down nostalgia lane), while the lighting is colourful and focusses, naturally on the ‘band’. Of those, we all know the main stars are ‘Frida’ and ‘Agnetha’. Colourful spotlights, occasional intense and throbbing uplights, and disco ball effects all add to the party vibe.
The costumes are familiar from the key moments of ABBA’s life (white satin mini dresses, big sleeves, pantsuit and platforms) and the choreography is reminiscent of ABBA, the originals. It’s obvious that this group have done these routines many, many times. They are smooth with a capital S.
The crowd is here for a good time and are totally giving themselves over to the vibe of ‘ABBA’ being onstage, which is precisely the point of this show. It takes me back to being a kid when they were on the airwaves. I remember songs that I had forgotten, and lyrics that are locked deep in the archive of my mind that come tumbling out of my mouth, although I haven’t thought about them for years.
It also surprises me just how many absolute banger hits ABBA had, and I had honestly forgotten how much fun many of them were. I defy anyone surrounded by 1,000+ people singing ‘Dancing Queen’ not to feel the urge to perform a point and sweep move.
All the hits are here, and they are performed perfectly. ‘Agnetha’ and ‘Frida’ have incredible voices which do absolute justice to every song, and ‘Bjorn’ and ‘Benny’ are great frames to the women, as well as being authentically talented musicians.
Showtime NZ have got a winner here. These are consummate performers who bring the goods – a pop/rock production that delivers a joyous escape, as witnessed by the smiles that are everywhere as people sing and walk/sashay out.
And do I get up and dance?
Yes, I do. And you will too.
Tea with The Topp Twins
It’s Christchurch Pride Week and, to celebrate, The Court Theatre has created a Rainbow Theatre Weekend – a multicoloured rainbow of performances ranging from nude play readings to children’s story time.
The show that catches my immediate eye – and that collective eyes of about 380 other people’s – is that by “NZ Icons,” Dames Jools and Lynda Topp.
Tea and freshly made scones are on offer in a buzzing foyer when my friend and I arrive for the 11am “retirement home time slot” appointment with their Dame-ships. We start a little late, but I can tell you that there is a palpable vibration of expectation and happiness in the auditorium. MC Lana Searle invites us to stand and dance Jools and Lynda onto the stage and, truly, the crowd goes wild. Genuine love and excitement flows from the audience and onto the stage.
The Topp Twins have been part of the New Zealand entertainment scene for over 40 years, creating a unique blend of humour, country music, character skits, yodelling and political passion.
Image Credit: Kiwibank New Zealander of the Year Awards 2023
Today they are here to talk about their lives. Seventy minutes is not nearly enough for these natural born storytellers. Searle guides the conversation but, in truth, these brilliant women have no trouble talking and engaging the audience. They riff off and pass between each other with a familiarity that comes both from being identical twins and long-term performing partners.
These self-proclaimed ‘political lesbians, radicals, entertainers’ have a little bit of everything to offer us today. Of course, there are songs, featuring the beautiful harmonising, and the yodelling. There is obvious sisterly love plus many, many laughs, and the anecdotes – we learn a lot about their childhood (and even the intra-womb collusion which kept their ‘twinness’ a secret until birth), the influence of their beloved mum, the party experiences of their youth in Huntly, and entertaining (then) Prince Charles.
When Searle asks them if they realise their impact on NZ culture, they talk about their passionate involvement in many points of cultural and political change – protests in favour of making NZ nuclear Free; the 1981 Springbok tour; the Bastion Point occupations; and the Homosexual Law Reform. As openly lesbian women since the seventies, they are passionate about inclusion and equality and their audience is a visual demonstration (by way of shows of hands) of that diversity and inclusion. People are here simply to appreciate the talents of other people – no labels or judgements; that’s the point.
Over their long career The Topp Twins have used their voice and status to make change about the things that mattered to them, and to many others. But they are also part of our culture in the most basic of ways – so many of us can see ourselves, and familiar experiences, reflected by the stories Lynda and Jools tell, and the songs they sing. There is no pretension from the Topps, and no doubt that is part of the reason they are so beloved. They are talented comedians and musicians, but they also represent something we recognise, or wish to believe, is essentially Kiwi – a no bullshit, laugh at yourself and tell it like it is approach.
This show was truly like coming home, for the best kind of homecoming – the chatty catchup, reminisces and laughs with people you know so well.
The “Untouchable Girls” have been touched by life, being forced to take a hiatus from performing and even seeing each other due to the ‘three Cs – Covid, cancer and chemotherapy’ in 2021. That fight is not fully over – Jools has ongoing preventive monthly treatments – but they are getting back out in the public eye and are thinking about going planning a concert each month in the cities around the country.
Trust me, if they do, go and see them. Welcome each other home.
I’d seen Adam Rennie perform once before, when he starred in Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the Court Theatre in 2019. That performance left such an impression on me that I knew without doubt that I would be going to see him again whenever I could. So, thank you, Court Theatre, for bringing Rennie back to Ōtautahi.
For 70 minutes on a Sunday night in Christchurch he entertains us with a cabaret style show in which we’ve been promised a “whirlwind tour of all the queerness, joy and, quite frankly, pain that comes with performing some of the biggest roles in musical theatre history.” I’m expecting big things. I get all of them, and more.
Opening the show was ‘The Origins of Love’ from Hedwig. This song, sung by a backlit Rennie as the stick-figured picture story unfolds across a screen
First published on Theatreview, 27 March 2024
at stage front, set the expectations of all that was to come – poignant lyrics, powerhouse vocals, and mesmerising, sequinned showmanship.
Rennie shares key moments of both his professional and personal journey through his song choices and conversations with the audience. He introduces us to the nine-year-old boy jumping on the trampoline in speedos and an oversized tee shirt, to…well, the grown man, finishing his performance an hour later in the equivalent of speedos and an oversized tee shirt.
That nine-year-old boy didn’t know he was queer, but he did realise that he was different, and he would dial down those differences to fit in. Despite adult Adam being an absolute powerhouse performer, wowing crowds big and small, it surprises me to hear that Rennie still feels he sometimes has to dial himself down so as not to miss some professional opportunities. Why anyone wouldn’t want him at full volume, in every sense, is beyond me.
After some jazz numbers including ‘I want to be happy’ (‘reclaimed’ from his childhood), the affirmation of ‘I’ve got to be me’ and the aspirations of ‘Someone to watch over me’, we turn to the show tunes side of the stage.
His rendition of ‘I miss the mountains’ (Next to Normal) gives me goosebumps, and then it is time to kick off the sequinned trousers and meet Frank N Furter. Rennie suggested we google the origin story of his breakthrough in the famous Rocky Horror role (I did. No wonder he received such accolades). Then it is an unforgettable reunion with the feisty, aching Hedwig, a role, Rennie tells us, that kicked the open doors on him embracing his true, authentic self on the stage. Apart from the singing, I am still in awe that he can run and jump on and off stages in those shoes.
Throughout the show Rennie talks about how being his authentic self, as a queer person, has not been without cost. The risks – physical, mental, emotional and careerwise – take their toll. To find your place and your people, and to live your truth unapologetically, takes courage. That makes the gift of Rennie showing up as his real, authentic self all the more special and it is a beautiful experience to be part of.
We wind down with ‘I’m coming home’ from Rocky Horror and ‘It means beautiful’ from Everyone’s Talking About Jamie, a musical I wasn’t familiar with until now. The poignancy of the lyrics, the authenticity of his delivery and a better understanding of what this means to Rennie combine to leave me with tears in my eyes.
The man’s voice is stunning, and I have to shout out to the band as well. They work in perfectly with Rennie as he toys with them, but under the leadership of Calen Thomas they never miss a beat or a mark, even when their hair is being tousled. Considering they had less than five days to prepare a set of a dozen or so songs, these are true professionals. Kudos to you all.
I feel very privileged to be part of this intimate, personal and impressive performance, which earned a well-deserved standing ovation. I just hope that we see Adam Rennie back on our stages again soon. I, for one, will be there.