Absolute Trash (indeed, that's the cabaret's title), presented by Glitter Martini, took cabaret, circus, and comedy, tossed them into the recycling bin, and pulled them out again in a spectacular, chaotic, and utterly brilliant display. The evening featured trashy confessions, absurd puppetry, and astonishing talent, all enveloped in an eco-conscious, upcycled fever dream.
Before the show even began, the audience was encouraged to text in their trashiest confessions, and oh boy, they were juicy. Our host for the evening, the divine Natrasha Binit (Trent Charles), strutted onto the stage in a dress made from literal garbage bags—only for it to transform into an ensemble of Woolies reusable bags—because sustainability is sexy. With her towering green heels and cheeky wit, Natrasha kept the energy high, reading out the audience’s anonymously texted confessions—a game that quickly descended into absolute filth. The unanimous winner? A bloke who, while traveling, unknowingly took a dump in an open grave at a sacred site, only to bolt in horror as a funeral procession approached. His prize? A tiara and bin chicken socks. Iconic.
The show kicked off with dancers in hazmat suits stripping down to their underwear—made entirely of plastic wrappers—while grinding to ‘Filthy.’ What followed was a smorgasbord of circus and comedy acts, each more ridiculous and impressive than the last. Aerialists clad in pink plastic bags (Elena Khaw and Rachel Ray) performed a mesmerising routine so fluid and in sync that I felt my muscles cramping just watching them. Darcie Rae, as a sexy polar bear on fire (a metaphor for climate change if there ever was one), performed a stunning aerial trapeze routine to a mashup of ‘Stayin’ Alive’ and ‘Hot in Herre.’ Her strength made an act that seemed impossibly challenging into one of effortless elegance. Rachel Ray dazzled with an electrifying hula hoop act set to a remix of ‘Toxic,’ her illuminated hoops twirling in hypnotic patterns. Darcie also balanced a full wine glass on her forehead while stripping, striking powerful poses, and performing the splits—a true display of raw talent.
Then came the bin chickens. Calum Johnston’s ibis puppet performance was an utter fever dream—strange yet moving. The girls behind me were laughing so hard that one almost wet her pants when 'Close to You' by the Carpenters began playing. In another display of absurdity, Calum later swallowed and regurgitated a balloon. I have no idea how or why, but I do know that I wanted to gag, despite knowing it was just a magic trick.
One of the best comedy moments was the upcycling clothes tutorial act. In a pointedly hilarious bit, our guide declared, "You deserve to be villainised for fast fashion even though it's the only thing you can afford as your grocery bills continue to climb thanks to the effects of climate change and capitalism." Naturally, the solution involved wrapping contortionist Elena Khaw in cling wrap, creating a fashion monstrosity before she performed an astonishing contortion act (in heels!) to ‘Wrap Me in Plastic.’ The final punchline? "Are you climate change? ‘Cause you're hot as hell, and I don’t see a future between us." I lost it.
Music and sound choices throughout the night were impeccable, from a rubber chicken opera (yes, really) to a perfectly placed Oscar the Grouch snippet. The entire stage was soon littered with trash (purposefully, of course), with costumes and set pieces crafted from repurposed materials. Even the specialty cocktail for the evening—aptly named ‘bin juice’—was on brand.
Then arrived the ultimate audience participation moment. Four brave souls took up rubber chickens to play a symphony to the 'Can-Can.' Just when I thought things couldn’t get any wilder, the cast handed out more rubber chickens from KFC buckets for the entire audience to squeeze in time to the white-trash anthem, ‘Sweet Caroline,’ culminating in an epic chicken-throwing finale aimed at Natrasha.
Absolute Trash was everything it promised to be: hilarious, sexy, absurd, and surprisingly elegant in its execution. Underneath all the filth and silliness, it was an expertly curated cabaret with genuinely jaw-dropping talent. The lighting (designed by Steven May) bathed the stage in lush greens and pinks, elevating the glamorous trashiness. The entire cast brought a riotous energy to the stage, blending circus, cabaret, and comedy into a performance that felt both spontaneous and well-rehearsed.
Arcana Brisbane, with its intimate yet dynamic space, was the ideal venue for the show, allowing for up-close interaction and a vibrant atmosphere (although sight-lines did detract slightly). Every act had a purpose, and every joke hit its mark. They even managed to meet the criteria of a sustainable, high-quality, and high-impact show—proving that even trash can be turned into treasure. Absolute Trash may have been a celebration of garbage, but there was nothing second-hand about the talent on display.
Comments