There’s every reason to doubt that splicing Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein with The Smiths’ 1986 album The Queen Is Dead could produce anything viable, let alone something capable of pleasing devotees of either. It sounds like a gimmick courting collapse. Pete Shelley, sure. But Mary?

Happily, Big Mouth Strikes Again crackles with life. Powered by the electrifying presence of New York cabaret star Salty Brine, the show is fast-moving, sharp-witted and gleefully monstrous – a stitched-together creation that not only lives, but struts.

Salty Brine: Big Mouth Strikes Again. Photo © Wendell Teodoro

Part of Brine’s Living Record Collection suite (previously tackling albums by The Beatles, Weezer, Harry Nilsson and Adele), Big Mouth interweaves the tragedy-strewn contours of Shelley’s life with Brine’s own formative adventures – mostly sexual, often comic. These narratives bleed into songs from The Queen Is Dead.

In contrast, almost nothing is said of Smiths lyricist Morrissey or his life – recognition perhaps that his pronouncements on immigration and race have put him beyond the pale.

Salty Brine: Big Mouth Strikes Again. Photo © Wendell Teodoro

Not every stitch holds. Some transitions strain – Vicar in a Tutu, for instance, feels shoehorned – but when the connections hold, they do so with striking ease. The Boy with the Thorn in His Side and Cemetery Gates (“Keats and Yeats are on your side / While Wilde is on mine”) feel almost uncannily apt, while Brine’s rich, emotionally generous voice finds its fullest expression in the album’s cri de cœur masterpiece There Is a Light That Never Goes Out.

Even the jaunty, acrid Frankly, Mr Shankly reveals unexpected bite with Brine teasing out the song’s despairing undercurrent (“Fame, Fame, fatal Fame / It can play hideous tricks on the brain / But still I’d rather be famous / Than righteous or holy, any day”).

Salty Brine: Big Mouth Strikes Again. Photo © Wendell Teodoro

Brine is superbly supported by a four-piece, piano-led band, stylistically agile enough to move from country-pop to Burt Bacharach-inflected balladry. The original songs were all built on Johnny Marr’s spectacular guitar-playing, and this guitar-less treatment opens them up to deeper inspection while creating the aural space for Brine’s torchy theatrics. 

The staging is handsome, the sound immaculate, and the unobtrusive table service encourages intimacy rather than distraction. With shows like this, Wharf 1 is staking a persuasive claim as a serious cabaret venue, and Big Mouth Strikes Again is one of its liveliest shows to date – especially if you are seated front row at Table 4.

Event update: Due to “unforeseen circumstances”, all remaining performances of Bigmouth Strikes Again (15–18 January) have been cancelled. All ticket holders will receive a full refund and have been contacted by email.