Her stage name makes Melissa Madden Gray sound like a drug, and judging by last night's performance there is something truly addictive about Meow Meow.
There are not many women who can stun an audience into pin-drop silence with an exquisitely delivered torch song one moment and rock the rafters with laughter the next. Meow Meow, previously part of hit show La Clique, is that rare combination - devilish funny bones and heavenly vocal chords.
The comedy comes from the conceit that Meow, resembling a cross between Joan Collins, Liza Minnelli and Lady Gaga, is a jumped-up strumpet with a skinflint producer. The set has been skimped on, her frock has to return to the shop mid-ballad. To compensate she orders fans to throw fake bouquets, cuddle her and carry her. She might humiliate her acolytes but she is happy to detonate her own dignity for humour, sticking her rear in the air and singing in her singlet.
Oh, and the music is special too, mixing together Brecht, Brel, burlesque and reinterpretations of the Smiths, Radiohead and Fiona Apple. There is nothing new about this musical-comic cocktail.
Joan Turner - ask granddad - was doing it before the Beatles. But no one now does it better than Meow. Catch her before the bouquets that are thrown are genuine.
Until tomorrow (0844 482 9671, nimaxtheatres.com)
Meow Meow
Apollo
W1
