Delivering a performance that glimmers with promise, Star Dust (Kat McGarr) attempts to reach the orbits of her 24-karat studded cabaret aspirations. Blending spoken word, movement and clowning, the production aims to explore cosmic identity, grief and longing through a kaleidoscope of celestial metaphors and well-versed musings on old Hollywood and fading stars. McGarr is a thoughtful and committed performer, her presence anchors the piece with emotional clarity and structured chaos.

Stardust’s strongest elements come in quieter, introspective passages when McGarr sheds the more abstract framing and speaks plainly about desire or displacement, all used to wrap up something they’re not talking about. There’s a rawness to the delivery that feels refreshingly unvarnished, and her ability to hold the audience’s attention in these moments is impressive. However, the show’s structure can feel nebulous, with transitions that drift rather than propel.

Lighting evokes a dreamy, interstellar mood, though the sound design and musicality is where much of the atmosphere is captured, thanks to Robyn Herfellow on the synth-keys. There’s a sense that Stardust is reaching for something vast and ineffable; for now, it’s a constellation of compelling ideas, anchored by a performer whose talent is evident, even if the stars haven’t fully aligned.

Stardust Starring Star Dust (In Person), Underbelly Bristo Square, until 24 August, 5.25pm; main picture: Jackson Ducasse.