My Dick (And Other Reasons I'll Never Get The Role Of My Dreams)
Things we loved
- Moffatt has a splendid voice
- True craft on display; simply a voice with jazz guitar manifesting a rich, memorable feast for the senses
Things we would reconsider
- Swapping in another "standard" or two would push this show to mainstream audiences; dick be damned
Having male genitalia is not often equated with a disadvantage in any field, let alone arts and entertainment.
For example, men get treated far more kindly as they age and in nude scenes they rarely need to display any “bits” of titillating, cultural significance.
But as Jamie Moffatt explores in this show, My Dick (And Other Reasons I’ll Never Get The Role Of My Dreams), there are some heights of musical theatre that remain out of reach for a person with a particular appendage because key songs or characters have been written for a female.
Moffatt references Broadway legends Patti LuPone and Barbra Streisand as examples of performers for whom the strongest and most memorable songs have been written, thus rendering some obstacles for performers at the male end of the spectrum who might covet the joy and fame of being able to also perform such standards.
In this intimate, reflective, and at times self-deprecating show, Moffatt uses cabaret patter to poke and prod in the shadows of this craft, unearthing some surprising insights, some behind-the-scenes stories, and some cheeky observations. While, at times, the show does steer into the realm of “cabaret as therapy”, suitably acknowledged by Moffatt, it does not linger in this key.
Of course, the “meat” of the show, so to speak, is the singing. And Moffatt has a beautiful voice, paired perfectly with simple guitar accompaniment by long time friend, jazz guitarist David Blackwell. Blackwell’s playing is masterful; not stealing any limelight while also being the vital foundation for Moffatt’s “diva” moments. Also noteworthy is the work of sound engineer, Connor, who was able to blend these rich elements with aplomb.
The repertoire of the night is clearly one chosen by an aficionado of musical theatre, as opposed to someone just wanting to belt out the hits. These lesser-known songs give Moffatt the advantage; we are not able to compare their voice and performance to the stars. However, when Moffatt does indulge us with absolute classics, the experience borders on the sublime. Send In The Clowns is given authentic and sincere treatment, as are Midnight and Don’t Cry For Me Argentina.
Jamie Moffatt is following the heart and has created a moment of simple storytelling and splendid singing, truly conjuring a musical theatre atmosphere from the fundamental elements of guitar and voice. Send in the audience.