Review – Sweet Dreams

A man alone with his piano, Michael Griffiths opens the show with a version of “Missionary Man” that is as grittily grungy as the original, and infinitely more soulful. Cutting the song off midlyric with a drugs-in-pop-music wisecrack about “snorting the lines of love”, he playfully lights a single candle. The audience chuckles when he immediately snuffs out the flame, and for a mere moment we’re left wondering whether or not to take all this seriously. And then he proceeds to utterly own each subsequent song.

When Adelaide’s own Michael Griffiths’ (star of Jersey Boys & the Priscilla stage show) earlier project In Vogue: Songs by Madonna came to town, most previews described it as a comedy; some, as satire. When the reviews came out, no one used such terms anymore, now aware that Griffiths’ endearing tribute had not a hint of tongue in its cheek. He wears Annie Lennox’s heart on his sleeve with even less irony here, transcending any potential kitsch factor of the project by sheer virtue of his talents. Griffiths is not merely a musician capable of making a song his own, but an actor able to embody a character; a performer able possess a stage and seamlessly carry an audience back-and-forth between heartfelt and hilarious.

It is a true showman who can joke about the heartbreak of losing a lover to one third of Bananarama, in the same breath as a genuinely stirring song about the same subject. Audience engagement becomes participation with an all-in sing-a-long for “Thorn in my Side”, and dyed-in-the-legwarmer Eurythmics fans will appreciate the mash-up medley combining “Right by Your Side” with ”When Tomorrow Comes.”

In his own closing words, Griffiths says he loves Cabaret because it is the distilled essence of storytelling. By his own admission he “spoile(re)d the ending”, accidentally singing the titular “Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of This)” too early and thus having to repeat the closing biographical speech. The sweetly sorrowful way he whispered this second delivery, without a wry smirk, nor a nod nor wink to the audience, is a credit to his mastery of the Cabaret medium.