This production is streets ahead of many, with both BSL interpretation central to the action – not an interpreter shunted off to the side – as well as audio description for those who would benefit from it. The latter is incredibly detailed. For example: “She slowly walks through the doors, then closes them behind her. She is a white British woman of medium build with long brown hair tied back in a plait. She is wearing a black suit, with see-through legs and sleeves.” And so on and so forth.
Without reading the blurb (reproduced below the star rating), however, it was difficult to understand the basis on which the narrative, splendid as it was, was based. For your reviewer, then, reading it on the Tube home, it was rather like looking at a painting in an art gallery, not quite grasping fully what it was ‘really’ about, then reading the blurb on the wall next to the said painting. Even then, not everything is fully explained – when some kind of dark knight appears and all the song and dance comes to a shuddering halt, why is this? Is this a predator, an investigative journalist, a policeman, or one of those community busybodies who always has a reason to complain about anything and everything? Given the interwar period setting, this production went the way of the musical Cabaret in its closing moments, the gloom and despair descending rather suddenly.
Some context was provided, though I thought there could have been more. To the best of my recollection, for instance, quite why Le Monocle was called that, and what significance the monocle had amongst lesbians in the early twentieth century, wasn’t included in the show’s story itself, even if there is an article about Le Monocle’s history in the programme. That blurb in the National Portrait Gallery comes to mind again…
Predominantly a dance performance, it is a production that deliberately defies being categorised, including songs and even a clowning scene. The former were sublime and the latter was ridiculous. I’m not sure if the audience needed quite so many ‘rounds’ of macho-macho-man fighting – it ended up being a joke that somewhat outlasted its welcome. Still, it was good to experience more elegant and elaborate forms of dancing, rather than the frenetic activity that sometimes goes with a young cast performing as equally young characters. There was even entertainment during the interval, a surefire way of getting the audience back in on time. For the most part anyway.
In some other venues, I was reliably informed, there was on-stage seating, though there wasn’t the space for that at Wilton’s. A vague and sometimes impenetrable story, the show nonetheless does well to bring back to life a key part of queer European history.
Review by Chris Omaweng
The Monocle celebrates the all-but forgotten history of the notorious Parisian club where glamorous lesbians could dine, dance, sing and socialize without fear of persecution. Within its decadent but stylish walls, secrecy was paramount, affairs were commonplace, lifelong friendships were cemented, stories were told… and the band played on.
With this performance, Rendez-Vous Dance tells the story of the Monocle through a mix of virtuosic choreography, passionate drama and live singing.
PERFORMERS
Alyssa Lisle as Lulu the Bar Owner
Coralie Calfond as Marcelle the Celebrity
Caroline Ryan as Babette the Habituee
Imogen Banks as Line the Singer
Mutyat Anibaba (apprentice dancer) as Violette the Door Person
Natassa Argyropoulou as Mireille the Regular
Ruth Howard as Colette the Bartender
Zara Phillips as Sofiane the Newcomer
CREATIVES
Artistic Director and Choreographer – Mathieu Geffré
Dramaturg and Associate Director – Andrew Gardiner
Composer – James Keane
Costumes and Set Co-Designers – Helen Hébert and Nate Gibson
Production Manager and Lighting Designer – Rachel Shipp
THE MONOCLE
Wilton’s Music Hall
15 and 16 May 2026
