“Goodnight, my babes, you’ve been precious,” says Diane Chorley at the end of her 90-minute musical-comedy event. I don’t think she is referring to me. Half of the room have been on their feet, dancing and cheering to drag-act Diane’s versions of I Believe I Can Fly and George Michael’s Freedom. And fair enough: this faux 1980s hit-maker and Essex nightclub impresario gives good party. But pickings are slimmer for comedy enthusiasts.
In the character’s favour, she is no mere caricature. The Duchess of Canvey, as David Bowie dubbed her, ran the celeb-magnet nightspot the Flick way back when, before drug dealing and a feud with rival club Safari Beige ended up with Diane in chokey. Performance-wise, it is pitched less broadly than that daft backstory might suggest: the femininity projected is louche, not coarse; the gestures – moues and rolled eyes – are under- rather than over-the-top.
It could be enjoyed, then, as easily as a pop music event. The Duchess isn’t the best singer: the songs are as often spoken (flat-voiced Eddie Argos from Art Brut came to mind) as sung. The lyrics are serviceable by pop standards, but undistinguished as comedy. But passionate pop tunes including Love Is a Game and Some of Us Belong to the Night make Chorley’s chart-haunting history perfectly credible.
The comedy mostly resides in the bathetic detail of her nostalgic anecdotes, which rely heavily on D-list name-dropping and 80s kitsch (Wimpy, Beadle’s About). She tries to be tart and high status, a pose that is occasionally and amusingly undermined by malapropism and ignorance. Her backing band of misfits, the Buffet, silently defer to the Duchess. I can’t quite deliver the same level of respect, save to acknowledge that, if you’re up for a Cinzano-fuelled dance and a giggle, she probably won’t disappoint.
• At Soho theatre, London, until 27 June. Box office: 020-7478 0100.
