Freud and Flamenco in Finchleystrasse as the Cosmo returns to NW3

Stepping inside this bustling evocation (brought to life by Director/Scenographer Pamela Howard and Producer Kyle Nudo) of the much-loved meeting place that was the Cosmo Café, notably for Jewish refugees from Nazi Europe, is to be instantly swept up in its vibrant life. Even before the show begins, Santiago del Fosco’s head waiter, channelling real-life waiter and Spanish guitarist Paco Peña, glides among the ‘clientele’ (as the audience, seated at tables, are cast), all charm and authority as he shows newcomers to their seats. He shows his mettle as a singer and, with George Robinson on guitar, he ensures that fiery flamenco is on the menu. Robinson is one of the superb trio of musicians, led by MD Brian Hughes from the piano and completed by Aussie treasure, violinist Eliza Scott. Hughes’ arrangements are one of the highlights in an hour of nostalgia, funny and bittersweet by turn.

It’s soon apparent that café regulars have taken their seats too, for a Cosmo newbie gets a guided tour, courtesy of a helpful habitué, Polish artist Lewandowski, who takes under his wing the young fellow artist he spots sketching customers. Eleanor Crowe’s attractive, winning people-watcher Pammy (aka Pamela Howard herself) warms to Frank Barrie’s avuncular émigré, revelling in his insider knowledge.

First up is the table of indigent bridge-playing ladies. Delena Kidd, Valerie Minifie and Shirley Jaffe make a sparky trio of former psychoanalysts; their fourth is Grace Lovelass’s opera singer, in glorious voice, enchanting the whole café with her evocative aria to the lover’s keepsake that is her ring. The newly-coined words to the tune of 'The Anniversary Song', at once witty and resonant, are typical of the lyrics and libretto, a feast of satisfying rhyming couplets courtesy of writers Philip Glassborow, Harold Baum and Alon Nashman. They breathe new life into 'The Blue Danube' and reach the heights of delicious nostalgia with ‘Breaded Mushrooms’, an ode to the Cosmo’s cuisine. Taking its title from one of its signature dishes, it rolls out the mouth-watering menu to the tune of Russian folk song ‘Ochi Chyornye’ (‘Dark Eyes’).

The Cosmo community of eccentrics includes the living and the dead, for Jack Klaff’s stentorian, cigar-smoking ghost of Sigmund Freud surveys the scene from a high stool, still very much part of the conversation. Pammy also gets to meet Stephen Greif’s wonderfully tetchy philosopher, eternally on the verge of publishing his masterwork, and Alfred Wolfsohn, the self-styled "Prophet of Song". Stephen Rashbrook revels in the declarations of this fascinatingly bonkers character, a refugee who in reality became an influential voice teacher, justifiably regarded as a guru by his followers.

The piece achieves a perfect balance between laughter and wistful nostalgia, typically in an ode to the exigencies of life in bedsit land that evokes ‘Finchleystrasse’ with a litany of street names – so many ironically called Gardens (Broadhurst, Greencroft, Maresfield…) – contrasted with a reality-check refrain: “room, shared bath, no kitchen.”

An hour that perfectly captures the flavour of cafe culture leaves its audience hungry for more. This glorious reincarnation of a much-missed home from home deserves another sitting soon.

By Judi Herman

Photos by Kyle Nudo

This is a review of The Ballad of the Cosmo Café at St Peter’s Church Hall, NW3, as part of Insiders Outsiders festival in November 2019. To find out about future performances, keep an eye on the JR listings or contact cosmocafeenquiries@gmail.com.