I met my friend outside London’s Playhouse Theatre.

“Don’t tell me you got tickets for Cabaret,” she said, sporting a glamorous red lip.

With a dramatic flourish, I waved the QR codes at her.

“I understood the assignment and booked tickets for the most opulent show in town,” I exclaimed. “Everyone’s been talking about this new production and I’ve been dying to go for ages. Tonight felt like the night.”

Stepping down into the theatre, any inhibitions I had left completely disappeared.

My friend and I had become immersed in the dark decadence of 1930s Berlin and Cabaret’s iconic Kit Kat Club, complete with a glittering gold art deco bar, the chinking of champagne coupes and moustachioed dancers in silk knickers dancing on plinths.

Musicians with violins and coronets moved through the crowd while guests found their seats. At this point in time, the corset was the only thing containing my excitement.

As soon as the house lights dimmed and the Emcee (played by the sinister yet boyish Fra Fee) bid us Willkommen, I knew we were in for something truly special. The circular stage gives the impression you are living and breathing right inside the very depths of Cabaret. Stockinged chorus dancers climb the balustrades and slink in amongst the stalls like cats, while the orchestra plays from the heavens rather than the pit.

When Sally Bowles (whose gutsy fragility is captured so perfectly by West End star Amy Lennox) emerges from beneath the stage in a plume of smoke and baby-blue tulle, the audience lose their minds. It’s little wonder the production has already won seven Olivier Awards, including Best Musical Revival.

Also, it goes without saying that this entire spectacle was directed by a woman, Rebecca Frecknall, who also happened to win Best Director at the Olivier Awards. Only a woman could curate something this magnificent.

Several times throughout the performance I turn to my friend, our jaws hitting the floor. Cabaret is a show so astonishing, you don’t want it to end. Throughout, you are reminded of how important it is to live and love freely, because like Cabaret, the curtain could fall at any moment.

Plus, guests are politely asked to cover their phone cameras throughout. This performance is one for the rebels, the sensualists and the extroverts. What happens at Cabaret stays at the Cabaret…

“I needed to reclaim my inner extrovert post-pandemic – here’s how I did it in just one night”