She’s stark naked and painted blue. She’s got big hair and bold makeup. She is full on, wicked… and totally out there! She’s Yana Alana – and she’s awesome.
Her show’s about her exploring between the cracks, her cracks – front-side and back-side; showing them and playing games with us about them; and getting downright dirty and having fun with it all.
She has no shame, guilt or reserve in her nude-ness celebration. She is comfortable, daring, brassy and beautiful. She’s pure entertainment.
And wow! Yana can sing; unadulterated diva stuff. The range in her magnificent voice is huge. From powerful punchy pop… too moody melodic blues… she doesn’t miss a note, or a beat; nor does her excellent pianist, who delivers splendidly; and also adds an extra dimension to the show, playing the role of the quiet, conservative, (continually picked on) accompanying musician; a great touch.
It’s no holds barred from the start… content and language gorgeously grubby and perfectly thrown at us. “And now for a little song about anal sex”, “Pull something out of my arse, would you?” (She bends over). A vibrating wrap sees her sing with her breasts jerking around, a reading from her (yet to be published) book Go F**k Yourself, takes us further into her delightful world, and holding up her “what box do you fit in” cards gives the audience every option possible for sexuality and coupling. Her drug taking sketch has half the audience in stitches – no kidding (I was in tears)! This show is so funny – all of it.
It’s the unique combination of quirky, edgy dark humour, the incredible star quality voice we are privy to, and the poetry and fun in her hilarious songs and chatters that makes this a great show. But it is who and how this weird blue woman is, and what she gives us through her odd-ball process of unravelling herself through her performance that makes this show a total winner.
“Between the Cracks” makes a brilliant musical comic dedication to nakedness, the body, being exactly who and how you are, camp performance at its best… and cabaret, itself.
“I just want to be me” she sings. We can see that, darling. Really! And we love it.
Give us more and more… of you!