Review By Greg Gorton
Cabaret can often be very little more than glittery dresses and booming voices. Monster by Florian Wild is a more nuanced show. Yes, it offers up a dazzling persona, but Florian is filling to also strip off that costume and show the vulnerable person beneath it all.
Florian’s outward persona, as introduced in the opening numbers, is filled with vim and vigour. Backed by an energy band, “The Red Scare”, they belt out loudly and proudly, while already making little self-deprecating comments in both words and body. Describing themselves as “a transgender man, in drag, dressed as a used tampon”, there is a sense of cheekiness that, while adult in content, never comes close to the vulgarity some performers rely on to produce interest. Florian is compelling just as they are.
As the night progresses, though, this persona begins to drop away as we are introduced to Florian the person; the person who suffered from sleep paralysis demons, who as a child heard the truth from the little voice they were told by adults was God. The teacher who doesn’t have time to indoctrinate their students, and the human being who gets a little tired of having to always be the advocate.
The song choices in this cabaret are delightful. While during the night I (in my ignorance) only recognised one, they all clearly reflected the themes and narratives of this show, and honestly introduced me to musicians I’ve now looked up, and will be listening to, all week. A particular stand out for me was “Saint Honesty”, offered up with such heart that it was difficult to hold back a tear.
The backing band were a young and energetic ensemble with a competence which took the performance to a new height. Musical director and band leader Daniele Buatti had some small interactions with the singer which provided light informal touches at the perfect moments. Nate Hughan and Zacharie Alexander completed the trio, and between the three musicians we had a full experience. Sometimes out of necessity, much of the cabaret I experience doesn’t come with the special touch of live music, and I certainly enjoyed the treat of having an in-the-moment relationship with the music.
One of my bugbears in Melbourne theatre is the lack of attention given to lighting. For that reason I am excited to rave about the work done by Olly Lawrence. Their focus on matching the tone of each moment while avoiding the pitfalls of overly complicated or pretentious presentations made a design that most audiences would not notice but, when asked, cannot help but be impressed by.
While an enthusiastic singer, Florian is at their best as a story-teller. It was the second half of the show where I was experiencing something special and unique, and felt compelled by the person on stage. At times, Florian dips their toes into topics usually avoided in performances that speak of the trans experience. They nearly break down talking about the pain of being compared to child abusers, and seems battered and tired by the constant expectation of being “a voice”. They ask, “why can’t people see that I’m more than just a transgender person?” For perhaps the first time I’ve seen in a talk from a person about this topic, Florian also touches on the similarities they discovered between those protesting trans people and those who want to be recognised for who they are.
Oliver Ayres co-wrote and directed Monster. I was lucky enough to experience his work, “I’m ready to talk now”, at Fringe 2023, and it has sat with me as one of the most raw and powerful works of performance art ever. I can imagine that this continued collaboration between the two artists is going to produce some truly thought-provoking and ground-breaking works.
Monster is a highly-polished production filled with a fun celebration of transgenderism, explorations of one person’s experience discovering themselves, and small moments of considered thought about the complexities of identity that everyone experiences.
