Unhappy Birthday

A long-established nightclub hostess­—of the much-loved London bash Duckie—Amy Lamé knows how to throw a good party. She’s also pretty adept at throwing an unhappy one, which is a less celebrated skill but proves a potent platform for her latest solo venture.

A word of warning though: Unhappy Birthday very much relies on audience participation. It’s seated in the round and revolves around an elaborate version of pass-the-parcel, to a soundtrack from The Smiths, whose old frontman Morrissey is the show’s focal figure. One seat is reserved in his honour.

Fans of Lamé’s witty, matronly broadcasting work may be taken aback by the tone of this show: it soon becomes apparent that we’re witnessing an extreme, almost unhinged version of the New Jersey native. It’s an extraordinary, uncompromising performance, watched in open-mouthed wonder by the party guests, when we aren’t being launched into a bizarrely elaborate parlour game.

It isn’t the jolly hour you might expect, then. There are lingering, sometimes excruciating periods where our hostess determinedly undertakes some laboriously arcane task, and the room itself is rather dark and stark for a party. But then that gloom suits the subject matter, as Morrissey has always been a poster boy for lonely bedroom-dwellers. Unhappy Birthday is really an exploration of obsessive fandom, Lamé parading the excesses of such behaviour in an increasingly manic fashion, as the unresponsive Manc star tests her loyalty.

It’s a fascinating project to be a part of—more of an installation than a celebration—and clearly a bonding experience for the attendees, who stagger blinking back into the light like recently-released hostages. Safety, here we come.