In the mood for some soft porn, are ya? Here it is, calling itself Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen and behaving brazenly in a below stairs space called The Night Egg. The book is by Leah Nanako Winkler. The music and lyrics are from the only recently deceased Duncan Sheik, whose Spring Awakening, for which he composed the music, still holds up as one of the best musicals of the past twenty-five years.
Not easily shocked after all these years of plopping myself in theaters and becoming wise to many devises and tricks, I didn’t quite know what I was in for when I found myself in the predominately bordello-red Night Egg arena, sitting on a bar stool and facing a circular stage approximately 90 feet in circumference. That’s where always wily set designer Scott Pask had placed four curved back chairs and at the peripheries a few door-like panels.
Nonetheless, I was quickly filled in when lighting designer Brian Tovar hit his first cue and sound designer Cody Spencer had a woman’s voice jovially declare “Welcome, you perverts.” Oh, yes, and in a Paris minute the seventeen-member cast romped on fulfilling the promise for perverted acts of sexual intimacy. Maybe not every example is depicted, but, among other fetishes, the script does identify—and the staging does gets around to—one fellow who’s into being shaved. (Maybe don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.)
Before too much time elapsed, however, déjà vu was tickling me. I got to thinking of Cabaret. It was difficult not to think of Cabaret. I was thinking that Winkler, Sheik, and always impressive director-choreographer Rob Ashford may have talked among themselves of admiring Cabaret (who doesn’t?) and thinking they could take it one or even several naughty steps further. (Did they ever consider titling their rude item Brothel or Whorehouse and decide not to?)
As there is a writer prominent in Cabaret, there’s one in this musical adaptation of the manga graphic Moyoco Anno novel. The surprising scribe is Colette (thrilling-voiced Sophia Anne Caruso, of Beetlejuice), one of the prosties, who after a handful of the busy Night Egg activities are titillatingly presented becomes the musical’s amorous focus in a more conventional manner.
Two men are crucial in Colette’s life. It’s not easy to decide which is more important. The first, perhaps ultimately the more important, is Japanese novelist-wannabe Sakae (Marc delaCruz), who, rich and sampling the world’s bawdy houses on a grand tour, thinks to fashion a novel from them by hiring Collette to fill a diary with a record of her daily life. The second wooer is Colette’s penniless boyfriend Léon (Cory Jeacoma), a trouble-making and troubled chap.
Exactly what Sakae requires of Colette is this, she reports:
A Japanese man once asked me to write down what made me cry. What made me laugh. What I longed for. And…what was…my perversion.
With Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen, director Ashford once again knows what he’s doing. In his clever hands, he keeps the action cracking along. Colette struggles effortfully to earn Sakae’s money so’s to release Léon from his lurid life (no spoilers here about her potential success).
The Night Egg Madame (Jenny Powers) does her best to instill dignity—not an easy task—in her establishment. Or if not dignity, some form of good-clean fun. To that end, she even stages a circus. Why not? Circuses do enliven things.
Throughout the shenanigans, the sex providers are abundant with their ample-bodied charms, especially the good-hearted Carmen (Elsa Keefe). The men populating the ill-reputed (but not to them) house are as buff, if not more so, than the ladies. Guys and gals all look brilliant in Catherine Zuber’s costumes, surely among the best of her career.
As what seems to be his final musical offering, Sheik has written a bold and strong score, but once the songs have ended, they don’t leave many lasting impressions. (Sheik and Or Matias are the orchestrators, Matias overseeing the vocal arrangements.)
Possibly necessary clarification: In writing Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen, Winkler drops a teasing hint about this Colette. It may be that some, if not indeed many, spectators will assume her to be the French author Colette (or her married named, Colette Willy), whose Gigi remains her best-known work today.
Perhaps this is Anno’s intention, perhaps not. The truth is that the real Colette cannot boast the back story attributed to the Anno-Winkler Colette. Moreover, the real Colette might very well have approved of the 1958 Oscar-winning Gigi musical and the stage version as well, but, on the other hand, might have taken offense at this later tuner. Oh, well, c’est la vie bohème.
Memoirs of Amorous Gentlemen opened October 15, 2026, at Culture Club and runs through January 3, 2027. Tickets and information: memoirsmusical.com
