On her best behaviour – a naughty girl’s cabaret

A minimalistic, theatrical stage.

A hungover, eccentric storyteller in a ridiculous dress stumbles onto the stage, accompanied by a strange-looking musician.

She sings (she shouldn’t).
She dances (she really shouldn’t).
She tells stories (we’re not sure we want to hear them).

Together, they attempt to entertain, to distract, to keep things afloat. This is cabaret stripped to its essentials: no polish, no pretense, just performance, vulnerability, and excess. Erotic fantasies intermix with grotesque comedy. And music. It is painfully real—an intimate mirror to a world hungry for escape, pleasure, and fleeting connection in the chaos, that wakes up to hear the lesson of the past: there is nowhere to escape to.

The evening finds its rhythm in the debris of the Weimar era, where lust and satire served as the only honest responses to a world on the brink. As the modern political landscape fractures, the stage becomes a sanctuary for the interior, occupying the thin line between the urge to hide and the necessity of being seen. These characters burn with a longing that is never quite satisfied; relief is promised, but the debt is never paid. It is a sixty-minute descent into an ache for connection, where the laughter is sharp and the shame has been left at the door. Here, the wreckage unfolds until the hunger beneath the glitter is impossible to ignore.

The performance is woven with live music by Jus Ray’m-Pecquet, using piano and drum machine, a soundscape that moves between the classical cabaret style and a chaotic/nightmarish music.