Led by filmmaker and theatre artist John Cameron Mitchell, I’m Afraid of Americans: A Bowie Song Cycle, is a cabaret that celebrates the music of David Bowie.
And that artistry, that alchemy, that unique cinematic thing where music and visuals combine to make something “more” – accomplished so well by Mitchell in Shortbus and Hedwig and the Angry Inch – abound from the opening salvo of Station to Station.
Ask most Bowie fans what they think about when they hear the words “Station to Station live” and their eyes gloss over as the image of a younger and – euphemistically speaking – sexually potent Bowie, clad in red jacket, stalks through their brain as he stalked on stage in an unforgettable scene from the film, Christian F. where he performs the same track.
Here, however, Mitchell instead stalks on stage from the wings with an enormous cape that billows and unfurls, all rippling and wonderful. The performance is terrific, as they all will be. By the time the song kicks into, “It’s not the side effects of the cocaine, I’m thinking that it must be love..” you look around in wonder and confusion because when did this become a church?
The recital centre feels like the perfect venue for such devotion. Indeed, throughout the service JCM or his guest performers refer to Bowie as the Lord, or as God (JCM opens his shirt often during the show to reveal Bowie’s visage over his heart). In-between and during every number there is worship and proselytizing and extraordinary performances in equal measure.
From here, the audience is gifted with the kind of curated setlist you’d put together to give to a crush. JCM promises deep cuts and we cynically think we know what that means until you realise the band are playing the opening to Conversation Piece and oh. Oh you weren’t kidding.
“A man is known by the company he keeps” Well then John Cameron Mitchell is a very good man, considering the calibre of his very good guests. Meow Meow comes on dazzling and resplendent for a mighty rendition of Five Years and later for a soaring duet with JCM on Rock ‘n Roll Suicide.
Speaking of altitude, Jude York sashayed and bolero’d his way on stage for flawless renditions of Life on Mars and Wild is the Wind, every high note pulsing elegantly in his vibrato.
Later in the show, star of the Australian production of Hedweg (and apparently the most beautiful human being you have ever seen) Adam Noviello strides on to duet with Mitchell for Time. It’s a stunning version, you can hear the cabaret, and in places Mitchell reminds you of the Emcee from Cabaret with the mischievous ways he delivers some of the lyrics.
In homage to Bowie’s sonic fellatio from 1972, Noviello and Mitchel kneel in front of their guitarist and when they arch back in syncronised cambré time indeed does uh.. stop for a.. for a.. Sorry, what were talking about?
Incredible vocals were also supplied by Mitchell’s backup singer, Amber Martin, although “backup” seems the wrong word when you have a voice that could fuse glass. Commanding performances of Fame, Ziggy Stardust, and – in tribute to Dolly Parton – Light of a Clear Blue Morning resonate well after the show.
Other highlights include a sparse version of Sorrow, an elegaic Dollar Days, and a glorious traversal of Sweet Thing / Candidate / Sweet Thing (Reprise). The band are best when they all cut loose on powerful covers of I’m Afraid of Americans and Spaceboy, before being joined by all the guests together for Heroes to close the show. Almost.
Smitten with the recital space or by the reception from the audience, Mitchell declares, “One more!” and after a brief debate with his guitarist over who goes first, we get a heartfelt Moonage Daydream to send us on our way.
You have such gratitude for the talent on stage – their ability as well as their imperfections. I’m Afraid of Americans is an immaculate show, to be sure, but it’s also messy in places, which is fine because grief is messy. Grief is non-linear. Bowie is gone, but for almost two hours in that space, Bowie was still here.
I’m Afraid of Americans – A Bowie Song Cycle
Melbourne Recital Centre, Sturt Street, Southbank
Performance: Wednesday 9 September 2026
Information: www.dmhentertainment.com
Image: John Cameron Mitchell (supplied)
Review: June Collins