Black Widow Review by Rosana Bouzas

Visually arresting and deliciously macabre, Isabel Knight’s Black Widow: Sex, Bugs & A High Death Toll spins gothic horror and grotesque comedy into a fully realised web of absurdist musical theatre. It’s a smart, well-controlled piece of character cabaret, carried by Knight’s magnetic stage presence.

Emerging from an ethereal cocoon-like canopy in a sweep of black fabric, Knight announces her magnificent creature without a word. A powdered face framed by enormous lashes, impossibly long claw-like nails, body encased almost entirely in black, her Black Widow is part cabaret chanteuse, part aristocratic horror villain, and part gloriously ridiculous insect. With four additional arms, sharply extended shoulders, and flashes of glittering red on her eyelids, mouth and crotch, she is both formidable and comically absurd.

That combination of menace and silly flamboyance runs through the show, which draws on classic horror and noir elements – stark shadows, a red, black and white colour palette, a touch of German Expressionism – to give authority to a female predator who is closer in nature to Count Dracula in eight-legged form than the usual highly sexualised femme fatale. Black Widow is refined, haughty, well-mannered, and completely sure of her own power. She marries her prey, establishes consent, then eats them. The joke is that Black Widow, unlike your run-of-the-mill manipulative vamp, hardly needs to disguise her power. She may observe social niceties but there is never any doubt who is the predator and who will end up on the dinner plate.

What begins as a funeral for her latest victim, becomes a clever frame for an evening of rewritten pop hits and Broadway numbers, during which Black Widow awkwardly grieves and reminisces about her late spouse, though she hardly recalls his name. A little black book confirms there have been plenty, yet Knight resists the usual moralising around a sexually voracious woman. Black Widow is not shamed, victimised, or degraded by her appetites; desire is simply another expression of her awesome power.

Knight’s performance makes this character work. Her singing is assured, her comic timing sharp, and every elongated, spidery gesture and grand pose deepens the character. The more seriously Black Widow takes her own splendour, the funnier she becomes. Audience participation is handled with just as much confidence – including on this occasion, the unwitting involvement of this reviewer – and she completely holds the room throughout. Around her, the production is economical but inventive: a few well-chosen props combine with excellent lighting, sound, costume, and make-up to create a character in a world that feels much larger than the stage.

The one element that feels less developed comes late, when predation gives way to the possibility of love. The sudden prospect of romantic feeling leaves Black Widow genuinely baffled and asking for another hand in marriage. It’s a clever twist but the shift happens too quickly to explore what that might mean for a creature who has never had to consider any mate her equal. There are glimpses of something sharper in the comedy, suggesting that romance may simply be another thing Black Widow wants to possess, but it remains underdeveloped.

Still, Black Widow is a striking piece of character cabaret. It’s very funny, stylish and knowingly grotesque. Knight gives us a female monster who has the sexual confidence of the femme fatale but none of her usual need to perform for her prey. She is equal parts elegant, grotesque and ridiculous without ever losing command of the room. Her formidable, enticing presence certainly weaves quite the web.

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Rosana Bouzas attended Black Widow at Qtopia Sydney on Tuesday 22 September. Black Widow plays until Saturday 26 September.