Review of ‘Club Life’: “Let’s do the time warp again!”

The Omnibus Theatre puts its boogy shoes on with this musical trip through the personal memories of the songs and nightspots that defined the 80s and 90s decades. Guillermo Nazara shares his views on the show, to let us know if this nostalgic flashdance ends up bringing a total eclipse of the heart.

Ah, the good old 80s. How I wish I had been part of that era – exploring the nightlife in the London scene, letting myself be taken by the free-spirited vibe of the time. I dream so vividly about those moments. I know that, if I could have them, then I would be gay again – with Marcia, and Jan, and Alice, and little Cindy. We would enjoy the experience a whole bunch… But this review is not about me (talk about disappointments…), so we’d better get ourselves down to business – and embark on a trip down memory lane, to the days when music has never been more alive.

Welcome to Club Life, a semi-immersive show taking us through the history of Britain’s grooviest nightspots – at least, to the eyes of the man who made many of them happen. Written and performed by Fred Deakin, the act combines bits of monologue (with an unexpected lecturing tone) with fully staged reenactments dragging us into the nifty atmosphere that defined that generation.

It’s a concept that bursts with potential from scratch. And, to some point, the montage makes a decent use of it. Yet, the delivery is still far from reaching its final state – with an aftertaste that feels convincing, but which also leaves a twinge of dissatisfaction lingering at the end. It’s just not polished enough to function as a piece of theatre. Is it entertaining? Yes. Do you engage with its themes and plot? Absolutely. Is Deadkin able to bond with his audience? You go, girl. Are you gonna give all your money?… Well, you can’t blame the guy for trying…

However, the work lacks a bit of development from a style perspective – too often, looking as if stuck on a routine. It just goes after the same formula over and over again. And, as much as that might make sense from a structural point of view, the eventual impression is, actually, of rather monotonous journey. A few anecdotes are told, then a dance section follows. It’s just not strong enough to keep bringing it back, with nothing else to balance it out, for a two-hour-and-a-half straight-through rendition – a running time that, on the other hand, could (and should) be reduced to half its length.

Featuring a 6-member ensemble coming up during the musical numbers, it’s really a shame that a better concocted narrative is not introduced – especially when Deadkin makes such an excellent accomplishment as a raconteur. He’s able to paint pictures with effortless naturalness – and effectively allows his audience to be absorbed by them. Yet, the company is not given the chance to provide much else apart from a few gags and their period-conscious go-go dancing (I’m dubious about the twerking, though) – ultimately resulting in a not so fulfilling jaunt that depends too much on audience participation to make it work; and even with it, still feels slightly bland and incomplete.

Nostalgically charming and musically enthralling, Club Life burns up the dance floor (quite literally) through its electrifying roster of pop-rock classics weaved through a heartfelt fabric of personal memories. Yet, its quiet resonance is still echoes away from the Saturday night fever it so determinedly aims to project. Shorter tracks and a better executed, intertwined narration are the key element to help the show move away from its slightly amateurish approach, and become a fully devised piece where all its components come together with purpose and unison. Its thoughts may be on the disco, but its portrayal is not yet on the ball.

All pictures credit to Kat Gollock.

Club Life plays at London’s Omnibus Theatre until 24 November. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara