
By Grace Hatchell, currently resisting urge to text “u up?” to three people I absolutely should not.
There are some theatre pitches that arrive politely through letterbox.
And then there are some that burst through door wearing fishnets, carrying emotional baggage and demanding closure in front of complete strangers.
Closure Cabaret very much falls into second category.
Heading to Soho Theatre on Friday 5 June, this gloriously chaotic-sounding solo comedy show introduces audiences to Razmatastique — a French-accented cabaret host who quite simply cannot let her exes stay in the past. Instead, she drags them all back onto stage one final time in pursuit of that most dangerous of modern fantasies: closure.
Honestly, there’s already half of Britain sweating nervously at concept alone.
Created and performed by Maria Ansdell, Closure Cabaret blends clowning, cabaret, character comedy and emotional carnage into one gloriously theatrical fever dream. According to the press release, audiences can expect bad-boy playground pirates, wannabe hip-hop stars, emotionally unavailable illusionists, original music, quick costume changes and audience participation. Which sounds less like a theatre show and more like every disastrous situationship compressed into sixty minutes.
And frankly? Grace is intrigued.
Because beneath all the sequins and silliness, there’s actually something painfully relatable sitting underneath this idea. Who hasn’t replayed old relationships in their head like some tragic little director’s cut nobody asked for? One minute you’re deleting their number in dramatic act of self-growth, next minute you’re six months deep into analysing why they reacted to Instagram story with a thumbs up emoji.
That’s not closure, love. That’s psychological warfare.
The show asks which former flame really has the “Ex Factor”, while exposing romance itself as a kind of performance. And honestly, if modern dating apps have taught us anything, it’s that half of people out there are basically auditioning for role they’ve no intention of committing to once previews end.
Maria Ansdell trained at École Philippe Gaulier and has already enjoyed sold-out previews in London, a successful Edinburgh Fringe run and further acclaimed performances in Brighton. The production has picked up praise for its clowning and character work, with critics describing it as “surreal and sharply intelligent” and praising Ansdell as “a rare talent and an exceptional crafter of characters.”
There’s also something deliciously Soho about this whole concept. You can practically smell the eyeliner, heartbreak and questionable late-night decision making drifting through Dean Street already.
And let’s be honest — theatre does heartbreak brilliantly when it stops trying to make everybody look impossibly glamorous. Closure Cabaret sounds messy. Slightly unhinged. Emotionally honest. A little bit raunchy. And probably the theatrical equivalent of laughing at your own bad decisions while applying lipstick in pub toilets.
Which, in Grace’s experience, usually makes for a very entertaining night out indeed.



