THURSDAY EVENING – Cabaret, the yearly musical extravaganza, took place at the U Street Music Hall yesterday. The lineup featured plenty of bright, young things, screlting their hearts out with a jazzy, bouncy back-up band to boot. It’s comforting to know we have such flouncy youth at Georgetown, eager to sing and dance for all to see. Yet one thing stood in the way of Cabaret reaching its full potential: none of the performers were 63 year-old-women, bearing their broken souls, desperate for love, attention, and the sense of self worth that came from their sparklingly successful careers of yore.

Yes, the young performers knew how to entertain, but they lacked the ability to pull at the heartstrings of the audience like an old, drunk, withering diva, crooning with a cigarette hanging from her mouth –  a death grip on the microphone in her right hand and a twisted sidecar sloshing about in her left.

Though the performers may have “remembered all of the words to the songs” and “not said anything racist or xenophobic,” the night lacked true, old-fashioned glamour.

No boas, no evening gowns, no sobbing mid-ballad. 2/10.