Stepping into Orthogonal Productions’ Cabaret at the Southern Theater felt like being pulled straight into a 1930s Berlin nightclub: sultry, vibrant, and brimming with electric energy. The story follows American novelist Cliff Bradshaw, who becomes captivated by the eccentric singer Sally Bowles, all while the city teeters on the edge of political upheaval.
I chose a front-and-center table, placing myself fully in the performance, surrounded by music, movement, and laughter. The theater’s tiered setting, with tables adorned with candles and black tablecloths, creates an intimate, club-like atmosphere that lets each audience member decide how close to the action to sit. I felt completely swept into the heart of the Kit Kat Club.
Moments of laughter came easily from me and the rest of the audience, especially when hotel staff characters shed their aloof, above-it-all demeanor and joined in the playful mischief. One character even remarked:
“This city is filled with risqué characters who are like children having fun until their parents come home.”
The line lingered, capturing both the reckless joy and the fragile illusion holding the cabaret together.
Dance was presented through subtle symbols rather than spectacle alone, but for me, the heart of the evening was the performance itself: a high-energy variety show of music, movement, and comedy. The orchestra and performers generated a kinetic charge that drew me completely into the moment. During quieter passages, when new performers entered the stage, I noticed the precision of the conducting shaping the atmosphere and heightening each beat.
As the orchestra quickened, Sally’s (Erin Grams) mounting frustration at the inability to entice the writer became palpable, with Cliff (Carter Roeske) absorbing the exasperation as the music amplified the tension of the scene. Performers moved fluidly onstage and off, creating a sense of immediacy that made the performance feel alive and lived, while the emcee, played by Max Kile, anchored the evening with a sharp, seductive edge, guiding the audience through playful mischief and shaping the rhythm of each scene.
Costumes caught my attention immediately: fishnet stockings and form-fitting evening gowns in silk and satin, evoking both glamour and a tawdry allure. Imagining the bar scene required little effort: pyramid phones, typewriters, flirtatious gestures, and costumes all hinted at the energy and eroticism of the period. Choreography carried raw energy, with performers pressing their bodies flat to the floor in close proximity. I found the movement thrilling, inviting me to lean into intimacy, and the performers delivered fully on that promise. One striking sequence had performers leaning shoulder-to-shoulder, holding each other at the waist in a line lean, maintaining glamour while keeping an air of mystery.
As the show concluded, the contrast between the intimate, warm, and seductive atmosphere and the sharp, icy Minnesota air outside lingered with me. When I called a friend to describe the performance, I noticed a subtle transformation in myself: adopting the characters’ detached cool, lips pursed, voice measured, for perhaps the first time ever, since I’m anything but detached on any given day.
Cabaret is showing now through February 14, giving plenty of time for anyone curious to step inside Orthogonal Productions’ daring, intimate world and let winter loosen its grip, if only for a night.
