Popera: Sex, Death & Politics

Uma Dobia and director and co-writer Bronny Lane were pals at the Sydney Conservatorium where they fooled around singing pop songs in operatic style.  Popera: Sex. Death & Politics evolved from there.  But since then, other elements have been added by the pair: game shows with audience participation, a bit of comedy cabaret, history, rage, and glamour.  Lots of glamour.  Uma Dobia prowls the stage first in red feather boa, then in bright red body suit, tailcoat and very high heel sparkling knee-high boots – she’s a kind of cabaret, on-the-brink-of-burlesque diva. Challenging, charming, dangerous, sexy – then switching to warm comedienne game show host, inviting the audience to have some fun. 

Dobia’s voice is highly trained (she has a master’s degree which she projects on the big screen) and the snatches of Mozart’s ‘Queen of the Night’, plus various grabs from ladies’ man Puccini’s operas sound pretty good to me – as does her quite amazing ability to switch from operatic soprano to pop star mid-lyric. 

There’s nothing highfaluting about this show – although it must be said opera aficionados and devotees of female pop stars get the most out of it as the show moves through its topics of sex, death and politics – in opera and contemporary pop. 

There are snatches of, say, Turandot sung in the style of... ?  Guess the pop artiste.  I refrain from spoilers, but people in my audience (women of course) did guess each one correctly.  There are original songs (arrangements by Simon Reich) and opera favourites with new and clever lyrics.  For some numbers, percussion instruments are given out and we sing along.  On other numbers, pianist Daphne (Isobel Cameron) joins Dobia downstage for dance moves and sing-along. 

There’s juicy gossip about nasty diva rivalries – past and present.  There are multiple choice questions on opera plot lines.  And we note, because Dobie points it out, that in almost all these operas, the woman suffers and dies, and we note too that much less than half of operas have a female lead...  Dobie draws parallels between then and now to ask if things have really changed? In opera, pop - or in life?

A less successful element has to do with some fellow called Trevor, ex-assistant, ex-lover (?) who appears only on video.  He has betrayed our Uma – just like the cads in the operas – and Uma is devastated and helplessly miserable.  For a few seconds, anyway – until Daphne reminds her there’s a show to do.  When Trevor reappears for a fresh start, Uma asks the audience if she should take him back.  We roar, ‘No!’  Unlike the operas, we’re on her side.

By the end, Dobia has shed the tailcoat for a rousing finale that shows off yet again her amazing voice and talent for mimicry – as well as Dobia’s and Bronny Lane’s inventive wit.  We are swept away on the wings of song and have a very good time.

Michael Brindley