Zoe’s Killer Instinct

Anna Sokolova
Aug 29
2 min read

Old Fitz Theatre Sydney, 25-30 August 2026

The review

A killer jazz-style cabaret, a solo performance by a glamorous, powerful, seductive woman.

Wearing a radk red-wine velvet dress and a thread of pearls - classy, hot, confident- Zoë Jensen is excelling in performing a demanding one-hour show of singing and dancing, accompanied by her devoted stage partner, a pianist. Her Zoë (that charm of a theatre where the names of a character match with that of an actress teasing to merge them into one) is moving swiftly, stepping softly, convincing, sheepishly curling under an endless shower of rejections, scraping for crumbs of self-confidence, and then letting herself suddenly realise, and grab, and hold on to a way out.

She becomes a sexy blonde in a Hollywood fashion of 50th; she claimed her spot bloodily, brutally, having enormous fun and feeling deeply satisfied. No, it is not 'all men are bad'. It is a twisted story of a fight in the only company of a bag of knives. It is a rebellion to what society is quietly accepting, as a cowardly warning that a woman shall not be alone in a park in the darkness because it is dangerous, which is basically carte blanche for those who shall be, as it follows, eliminated. Zoë's story is a wonderful, weird, unlawful purging wanting to be seen, famous, rich. A story of success in cutting off fear of unfair opinions, dirty deals, and freely pouring treacly advice while patronisingly rejecting. With an intricate mess of inner-head voices underlining this dazzling gig, one is promised to be engaged the whole way.

Not sure if there is a win to declare, but it is certainly a passionate, wonderfully talented feminist call impossible to unhear.