Fatale is a thoroughly entertaining hour in the company of a very dangerous but glamorous woman.

Jacqueline Furey is our mysterious and alluring femme fatale and from her first appearance on stage you can tell that we are in for a fun time – the figure hugging long black dress and ‘come hither’ looks as she saunters into view shout ‘glamour’ with a few tricks up her sleeve.

Ms Furey tempts and tantalises us to engage in a bit of audience participation with the request for someone to unzip her from her tight dress.

This bewitches some of the red bloods amongst us and has a few punters clamouring for the role.

But the unzipping is just the first part of the assistant role, and the second contribution allows Ms Furey to demonstrate her mastery of the cunning stunt and this part is, shall we say, somewhat less comfortable for her collaborator.

There is a theme of 1920s noir which provides a narrative through the show.

An unseen voice suggests that our dangerous woman has rather loose morals.

Ms Furey defends herself against these aspersions and although, at times, her American accent slips, her seductive allure never does.

She has talent to burn in more ways than just her fiery red hair and performs several impressive stunts, all with a delightful degree of insouciance.

She claims she can’t sing but that is hard to believe given her myriad of other talents.

Perhaps it is just me but when the pointy end of the sword re-emerges from within covered in a light sheen of what appears to be intestinal juices – that is more than enough to confirm that the performance is genuine, and that this dangerous woman has guts.

This is a one woman cabaret which pleases from start to finish.

And I shouldn’t forget what might be called the titillation aspect.

This is a hot show and Ms Furey teases us throughout with the prospect of a strip. Does it eventuate? Well, you’ll just have to see the show to find out!