Review: The Adelaide Cabaret Festival’s 25th Birthday Bash at the Banquet Room

A Quarter-Century of Camp, Class and Cabaret Chaos – Sharp enough to cut a corset!

The Adelaide Cabaret Festival turned 25 – and like any true cabaret queen hitting a milestone, she threw a party bursting with sequins, sass, and sentimental swan songs. Held at the Festival Theatre, the silver jubilee celebration wasn’t just a showcase – it was a glitterbomb of gratitude, cheek, and community spirit.

Who better to host than the indefatigably fabulous Virginia Gay, who tore into the evening with her signature blend of literary sharpness and musical mischief. Part emcee, part birthday cake with legs, Gay commanded the stage in a strappy number dripping with sensuality and self-aware smut.

With that, she lit the fuse, and the party exploded into full gear.

Gillian Cosgriff, armed with her piano, wickedly clever lyrics and dressed as a self-described grown up, goth Madeline, delivered a song so funny and frighteningly relatable, the audience laughed in guilty recognition. Her wit hits like a velvet sledgehammer – charming you first, then knocking you over.

A ‘guess the song and dance’ came next with audience participation in full throttle followed by Libby O’Donovan, the heart and soul of Australian cabaret, who served powerhouse vocals in ‘This is a Mans World’ and pure soul with enough vocal runs to rival the City to Bay. Her voice filled the theatre with a warmth that made even the sequins feel emotional.  Yes, she even made her Australian version of Etta James’ ‘At Last’ sound glorious.

And just when we thought our feelings were under control, Michelle Brasier arrived like a disco-toting storm. Her song, the 4 Non Blondes ‘What’s Going On’ was part rock, part dancefloor resurrection – think Donna Summer meets Blondie. In short: a religious experience for the irreligious. Superb.

Musical Director and cabaret superstar Michael Griffiths had the crowd in a little sing lesson for his rendition of Tainted Love, before a surprise set that stole the show and then handcuffed it, the acrobatic misfits of La Clique arrived dressed as police officers – cue shrieks, laughter, and a few audience members hoping (or not) to be frisked. Their act was circus-meets-strip-search: dazzling, dangerous, and utterly unhinged.

But amidst the sparkle and spectacle came a moment that hushed the house – the farewell song, Raise A Glass from the musical Hadestown, by the outgoing artistic director Ms Gay and previous Class of Cabaret performers

With eyes misty and voice steady, they reflected on the festival’s legacy of inclusivity, rebellion, and joy. It wasn’t just a goodbye – it was a love letter to a quarter-century of creative anarchy.

“Cabaret has always been about finding your people. Thank you for letting me find mine.”

The applause that followed wasn’t just polite – it was thunderous, grateful, and tinged with real emotion. A reminder that behind the rhinestones and risqué jokes is a community that cares deeply.

The 25th birthday of the Adelaide Cabaret Festival wasn’t just a retrospective – it was a bold, brash declaration of what cabaret still has to say. It was camp with heart. Glamour with guts. And a hell of a way to raise a glass to a legacy still being written.

Here’s to another 25 years of making noise, breaking norms, and singing like nobody’s re-elected.

Lia Loves.