Live Review: Cher, Andrew McClelland

We're entertained while going through security as fans wearing sheer, Cher-inspired outfits are 'frisked' by hand-held metal detectors - where the hell they gonna hide something metal? Then, while in the drinks queue, we spy an overexposed punter opting for white grundies under a flyscreen-mesh black dress and decide to venture inside. (At least her bra was black, but really?) 


Who's Andrew McClelland? It turns out the support comedian/DJ is more interested in attempting to execute cheesy, Tony Bartuccio-wannabe chorey than actually doing anything that vaguely resembles mixing behind that console. The tunes may be perfectly pitched for this demographic - Hall & Oates and Bonnie Tyler's insistent Holding Out For A Hero, for example - but we don't require anything more than a backing soundtrack at this point in time, so his energy is wasted. 


Refuelling prior to Cher o'clock, we meet VIP lanyard-wearing Rachel and her friend Joel, fresh from many hours of drinking in the VIP bar, the tickets for which they tell us cost $400 extra a piece. Their seats are front and centre, though (true dat, we spot them just before showtime) and Rachel proudly fumbles through her bag, eventually removing the "best friend necklace" she purchased especially for herself and Cher - the two parts separated into separate ziplock bags to prevent any awkward, tangled scenarios. We tell Rachel we really hope she has a chance to present her idol with this thoughtful gift tonight. (If she does, we unfortunately don't witness the exchange and deem it unlikely given that the photography pit is a fair few meters in width.)


Back inside the arena, cameras bust people scrolling/swiping on their phones and this resulting footage is broadcast on the giant screens. Much hilarity ensues when, eventually, nearby punters poke and then let them know. The culprits tend to get up and dance, with varied results. But, either way, this makes for genius intermission entertainment.


Blackout. A collage of various Cher looks and images spanning decades grace the big screens as we jive in our seats. "Tell the truth/This is a woman's world!" The front curtain drops. Stagehands scramble to collect it from across the front of the stage as dancers in pharaoh-inspired, Egyptian attire stand in formation. Cher herself? Oh, she's suspended from the ceiling, standing on a swing that slowly lowers her to stage level. She struts forward. "Tell the truth/This is a woman's world!" There's some impressive synchronised shield work by the dancers to open Strong Enough, but their overall choreography is basic throughout - junior level at best (only double pirouettes?) and not even performed in unison. They leave the stage. "Hold on, my wig and I have to get a drink," Cher proclaims before the banter section of the show, which goes for 13 minutes (yep, we timed it). At least she prefaces her "story" by instructing us to sit down. Cher rewinds back to a time when her career with Sonny took a "nosedive" (did they really owe the government $278,000?). She holds the audience captive, solo, telling us how a string of relentless dinner theatre shows - intended to clear their debt - helped the pair hone their comedic routine until refined into monologues, which became The Sonny & Cher Comedy Hour. 

We're then told a disturbing tale about the night of Cher's 40th birthday, which begins with her sharing she felt - and knew - she still looked hot. Next morning, she continues, George Miller calls to tell her he no longer wanted her in his movie [The Witches Of Eastwick], because he and Jack Nicholson thought she was not attractive, too old and not sexy. Cher stresses they went on to become friends later, but still, 'Boo, George!' She tells us the insults continued (including the fact that he didn't like the way she talked!). But Cher stood up for herself, reminding him about her much-lauded acting work in Silkwood and Mask. We then learn Cher hung up the phone and cried, but while crying admits she loved how natural her tears felt. This soon turns into comedic material, during which we're told Cher demanded a $28,000 fee (the exact amount of a debt she owed a friend) to appear on The David Letterman Show. After admitting her age (she's 72), Cher teases, "What's your granny doing tonight?"


A life-size elephant prop with illuminated tusks and eyes peers through the back wall of the stage, eventually storming through. Cher's riding on its back! 

Act two is the Sonny & Cher section, complete with vintage footage of the duo and more basic chorey, which is '60s-inspired so at least the simplicity makes sense here. The Beat Goes On sounds sensational and Cher’s multicoloured, striped flares of black, lilac, fuschia, aqua and coral are absolutely everything. Cher says that after initial reservations about performing I Got You Babe, she got over herself with some self-talk: "Whatever, you’re nearly 5,000 years old, bitch!" And we're so glad she did. An ornate screen lowers to broadcast nostalgic footage of Sonny & Cher. Sonny's actual vocal parts are factored in. Cher refers to her previous 'farewell' tour, explaining that she got sick and didn't complete it so it doesn't count. Cher's vivid costume for Gypsies, Tramps And Thieves is almost as delicious as the live rendition of this hauntingly beautiful track.


The stage set features stairs, but Cher always appears at ground level after her multitudinous costume changes. But then, look out! Cher braves a hydraulic system to rise up to the top level before Fernando in the ABBA portion of the show. A smattering of smartphone torches are raised in the air; not many, though, which reflects this evening's demographic. Obviously Cher is the star of this show, but her pants come a close runner-up (a tie between the striped and crochet-look flares). 

A collage of Cher's work on the silver screen is sublime, including a segment from her Best Actress Oscar acceptance speech for Moonstruck.


When Cher materialises to present After All, it's in a gold, Statue Of Liberty-inspired number (gold beading on sheer fabric though, obviously). Cher recalls asking her mum whether they could go see Elvis in LA when she was 11 years old. Her mum allowed it and Cher remembers asking if they could both stand on their chairs and scream like the other girls around them. Mum allowed it, she recounts. Heartbreak Hotel follows, complete with a set change that features the word "Chelvis” on the back screen - Cher and Elvis, is that pronounced 'Shelve-is'? 


A Sebastian Bach lookalike performs a crazy, '80s hair-metal guitar solo while flashing his pearlier-than-pearly whites and then Laura Branigan's I Found Someone is a mass singalong, with Cher rocking a lion-mane, jet-black permed wig and high-cut black leotard to match. If I Could Turn Back Time kicks in and most in the house sing this with convincing gusto (especially that, "If I could REACH THE STA-ARS!" key change section). And then (of course) Cher skips off stage in her heels. 

Our one-song encore is Believe and we all leave believers, the joyous expressions on all dials confirming Cher as a superstar septuagenarian.