Reuben Kaye is marching into the Sydney Opera House with Engorged — a show so tumescent, ballsy, and bulgingly inappropriate that even the Concert Hall might blush.
Returning as part of Sydney Festival’s 50th anniversary programme, Kaye is bringing 18 classical musicians, a clutch of new songs, and the kind of razor-sharp cabaret chaos that feels equal parts rebellion, glitter and confession.
“I think the imposter syndrome of having 18 amazing classical musicians on the Concert Hall Stage has pushed me to make sure that this show lives up to its name,” Kaye laughs.
The scale may be monumental — orchestral, cinematic, outrageously extra — but Kaye says the heart of Engorged is surprisingly intimate.
“The music is so important in this show. The moments where I talk to the audience are very unplanned and very one-on-one,” they explain. “So it counteracts the grandness with this immediate intimacy.
“Because of that, I think you’re getting a very unfiltered — I mean, as if I ever have a filter — but if I ever were to take that filter off, you’re getting it in this show.”
The band doesn’t get a script, they roll with Kaye’s delightful chaos — which means the audience also watches the musicians slowly realise what they’ve gotten themselves into. “If I can make the band crack up, that’s magic — that’s real cabaret,” Kaye cackles.
There are four new original songs, plus a gloriously queer setlist that leaps from Studio 54-era Amanda Lear to Whitney Houston to Aerosmith’s Dude Looks Like a Lady. It’s camp, chaotic and deeply self-aware — drag, but with more grandeur and existentialism.
For Kaye, cabaret is contemporary rebellion, with more sequins.
“I think cabaret is the original punk,” they explain. “And drag, in its purest form, is rebellion; revolution in action. And comedy… I think laughter is your first involuntary survival instinct. It’s the seed of revolution.”
