With multiple cigarettes slid between her fingers and hair like Grizabella in Cats, Meow Meow is the epitome of washed up cabaret singer.

After one song, her floor-length bargain bin ball gown is taken back by the hire company. And so Meow Meow launches into what is an amusing, exhausting and often terrifying series of attempts to resurrect the glamour of her intended show, in full diva force.

Some of the strongest moments of the performance come in the manic narrative that accompanies her songs – mostly through the unbelievable stretching of her emerald powdered eyes with long lashes that could only come out of a Gerald Scarfe illustration. In particular, her rendition of dark cabaret number Miss Me by Dresden Dolls takes the listener on a journey in which you truly believe Meow Meow had manipulative affairs with older men as a girl.

Indeed, it would explain her somewhat deranged behavior at times, which includes purposely choosing unwitting bald men from the audience to shove under her voluptuous bosom. The audience interaction is cleverly crafted into Meow Meow’s life story as a former Broadway singer: the entire front row is dragged up on stage to emulate her backing dancers, and Meow Meow’s dummy double for crowd surfing is an inflatable doll that is clearly intended for salacious purposes.

Meow Meow’s percussionist and pianist are fantastic and provide further quirks to the performance. There is nothing stranger than seeing two long-haired young men who you would easily believe belong in a freak folk outfit provide jazzy lounge music for a catty raven-haired madam in a see-through chemise.

She may end up with nodules in her throat from growling to the high heavens, but Meow Meow is an exciting catastrophe of femininity and vulgarity. A dark creature with lips that look like Dorothy’s slippers, this is one very talented, although tattered, glamour puss.