For £40, I expected better. Rufus Wainwright is normally a showman par excellence; a witty extrovert with the charisma and panache to carry off his sometimes variable piano-led balladry, but although he cranked up the campness in time-honoured fashion, one couldn’t help but feel that tonight, his heart wasn’t really in it. His banter did sparkle on occasion (his description of himself as “a regular MacGayver” made me laugh) but given his flair for the dramatic, it’s a shame his only nod to Halloween was a few half-arsed costumes mid-set. This apparent lack of effort filtered into the rest of the show, which on the whole was all too similar to his Glastonbury set, minus the shine-shiveringly beautiful duet with his sister on “Hallelujah,” plus the unwelcome preponderance of middle-of-the road filler to bulk up the running time. His arch croon seemed to dissipate in the cavernous Apollo (far more so that on the fields of Worthy Farm), and even the Judy Garland climax seemed to lack the sparkle of that far superior performance. It wasn’t terrible by any means, but it was certainly a case of same-old, same-old; less a “Hallelujah!” than an indifferent “meh.”(Photo courtesy of Rhyca54 (Flickr))
No comments:
Post a Comment