Yummy: Iconic review

This is not drag cabaret collective Yummy’s first trip back to the UK since they appeared at the Edinburgh Fringe in 2018 and fans continue to welcome them back with open arms. They have packed light this year, in terms of design, with only a rather modest neon logo to establish the company branding. Despite that, this is a full-on, upbeat show featuring a selection of Melbourne’s finest queer cabaret performers.

Following an Iconic opening dance number featuring the whole company, host Valerie Hex takes centre stage to introduce the show and warm up the already partisan audience. Although one member of the company was unable to perform on press night, that didn’t seem to upset the proceedings. 

Hex is an amiable and undoubtedly glamorous host, immediately warm and ready with plenty of quick-witted humour. She is also the owner of a selection of outrageous outfits from a classical black, glitter ringmaster suit to an exaggerated, extended white-felt cat-suit, topped with a baby-pink felt hat. Drag is a pretty flooded market at the moment, so any show needs to establish a unique selling point. Yummy attempts this with a fusion of classic lip-sync drag, burlesque and circus. There’s a little of everything, accompanied by a driving electro-pop score that hints directly to its birth in the club circuit and some seriously fierce choreography. This is perhaps exemplified by a trio of solo artists Jarred Dewey, Velma Vouloir and Jandruze. 

The burlesque elements are fun, whether they involve Jandruze constructing a giant size sandwich to the throbbing beat of the Detroit Grand Pubahs (while not holding back on the mayonnaise) or Velma Vouloir sashaying through a filmy boudoir routine. While these are fairly familiar, it’s Dewey who draws attention as a striking aerialist and dancer. His lithe, sinewy body is first seen in a velour swimsuit hanging from a trapeze, his 6in heels barely interrupting the elegant display. Whether pole-dancing or fusing ballet with acrobatics, his choreography is thoughtfully structured and drenched in eroticism. 

Despite the glitter, the glamour and flashes of comedy, Yummy: Iconic is fairly tame. Polished undoubtedly, but there’s not a huge amount here that’s truly subversive within the acts. The show steers clear of any cultural or political statements in favour of a handful of comments about inclusivity and being fabulous. There’s nothing wrong with that of course, but audiences used to Bernie Dieter’s Little Death Club or The Black Cat Cabaret might prefer a bit more bite with their burlesque.