Review of ‘Chat Noir!’: “Bohemian Paris dining experience is pure crème de la crème”

C’est magnifique! It has a few flaws, but it is formidable nonetheless. We wouldn’t expect otherwise when we’re referring to The Lost Estate, whose extraordinary production of Dickens’s classic, A Christmas Carol, has become a staple of London’s holiday traditions. Understandably, the anticipation for their new creation was as high as the legendary venue it’s themed after, whose departure from Paris’ free-spirited Montmartre hasn’t erased its presence in popular culture.

If you’re looking for a copious banquet of grand spectacle and succulent food, you might not need to look elsewhere. Quoting what’s perhaps the best-known line from any cabaret-related event, from the moment you step into this 19th-century time-travel machine, it’s time to leave all your troubles behind. In there, life is beautiful. And you’re advised to dress for the occasion.

It doesn’t matter where you’re coming from. As you venture into a dim-lit maze of Chat Noir facsimile memorabilia, your transformation has begun. And the moment the caped doorman welcomes you into the club, your francisation is completed. You will not be required to speak the language. Like everything in showbiz, this is a land of pretence. The rules of the game have changed. And anarchy will soon conquer the stage.

As guests are escorted to their tables, the most captivating 360-degree picture materialises instantly before their eyes. Sumptuous chandeliers hang across a hazy, limelit space, which perfectly captures the allure of Belle Époque Paris. The attention to detail is an absolute tour de force; a sense of lushness pervades every single element. The feeling of immersion hits instantly. And from then on, fascination can only follow.

A charcuterie-based entree awaits its patrons’ arrival. For the most part, the quality is good. An amuse-bouche array comprising a decent pâté terrine, two slices of adequate brie, and delicious bites of steak tartare, tuna spread, and quiche serves as the prologue to an overall successful menu (bear in mind that the canapés are only included with the VIP tickets). An impeccably cooked and beautifully presented dish of coq au vin is the main star of the dinner, which is properly encored by a luscious, although slightly overly acidic, lemon tart with raspberry coulis.

You’ll be encouraged to wet your beak a few times. And if this is the kind of party you’ve been absent from for a long time, be prepared for what’s coming to you — especially in Act Two. Nothing else to say about this matter.

A rousing preshow features Alex Ullman as avant-garde composer Erik Satie. Quietly sitting on a cornered piano, his superb execution on the keys is a definite highlight in the entire production, demonstrating a remarkable ability for phrasing, colour, and sensitivity. He’s later joined by an equally competent band, all of whom flaunt exceptional command, delivering every bar with tremendous flair, immaculateness, and bravura, underpinning the outstanding quality of the orchestrations — simple but rich, delicate but powerful.

The first excerpt combines a melange of semi-improvised comedy with a proficient variety performance. Alexander Luttley steps into the big shoes (no pun intended) of iconic mime Paul Legrand, with a number that swarms with visual poetry and emotiveness, combined with some piquant mouthfuls of dark humour. It isn’t the most impressive sight, and some segments come out slightly underdeveloped — but it’s an enjoyable act nonetheless, and its endurance, even if minor, is undeniable.

A wondrous musical rendition follows, masterfully interpreted by Issy Wroe Wright, whose astounding operatic vocals flaunt faultless technique and dramatic vigour. Her aim, however, is to make viewers laugh, but her natural drollery doesn’t make the job too difficult. One can tell she’s having a blast by being as histrionically daft as she possibly can, and such fun is reciprocated by its audience all the way through.

Neil Kelso adds an extra sparkle to the experience through a cleverly reimagined and beautifully put-together card trick, in which storytelling becomes the protagonist and the true purveyor of magic. Finally, Coco Belle takes on the role of Cléo de Mérode through a 19th-century burlesque-style dance, which is the only low in this section, as, despite its adroitness, it struggles to ooze the mind-blogging pizzazz one would expect from a show-stopper.

Similarly, Act Two fails to hold as much grip on the spectator as its predecessor. Although conceptually strong, the idea of a surrealist, oneiric sequence has far more substance than what’s been presented onstage. Albeit the first moments are inviting, the performance eventually falls flat, leaving with the uncomfortable sensation of not really knowing where it was going. And ultimately, not going anywhere.

Fortunately, those issues vanish entirely as the final act unfolds, as not only is the camp brought back, but it’s also elevated far beyond. An uproariously funny comedy skit involving a coup d’état and arranging a rendezvous between the King and Madame La Guillotine is succeeded by a tongue-in-cheek, abridged rendition of Bizet’s Carmen — once again, delivered with absolute prowess and serving as a spine-tingling Grand Finale to an evening full of panache and joie de vivre.

Despite the venue’s secrecy (nobody would guess such a plain, grey Victorian house could host a spectacle of this calibre), the cat is out of the bag when it comes to Chat Noir!‘s position as the immersive experience par excellence this Spring. A next-level extravaganza where high art and entertainment coexist in delightful unison, there are no further comments other than calling it near purr-fection.

Chat Noir! plays at London’s The Lost Estate from Wednesdays to Sundays. Tickets are available on the following link.

By Guillermo Nazara