By ROB LESTER**** Sometimes cabaret is magical. A spell is cast. As an audience, you may feel hypnotized. When I saw Emily Ellet’s very strong show, which you can catch for several days in NYC starting on Thursday, I am happy to report that I witnessed some magic. In fact, this magnificently magnetic MetroStar winner’s microphone turned into a water bottle, two of her three musicians were invisible, as if the room could not contain their talents, and at times her singing was so intimately communicative that it felt like we were in her hushed, elegant, elevated, Ellet penthouse living room and that she was singing just for a very few people, locking eyes and touching hearts. Well, in the interest of full disclosure, I did see the full act, but this full-hearted Uncharted territory of songs I was glad to run to was “just” a runthrough—yes, a rehearsal for her run (February 22 through 25).
I was eager to see what the luscious-voiced singing actress has in store and report back to my readers, giving you a preview, too. To clarify, with no mic on hand (or in hand, to be sure she got her mic technique into her muscle memory, indeed she used a water bottle as a substitute, and the reason two musicians seemed invisible was simply that they were not there. It would’ve been tough to squeeze them into the small rehearsal room which, although it is called “Penthouse 10,” that just indicates that it’s on the top floor of a building that houses numerous rehearsal rooms of various sizes. This one is petite. But Emily Ellet gave 100% performance energy, going straight through her show from top to bottom, patter and all, to this fly on the wall in my own little corner in my own little chair. And she sang right to me. And often got right to me with her emotive singing. No wonder she was the winner of the 2017 edition of the summer singing contest produced by the also-disappeared (not exactly by magic) Metropolitan Room. I do find it sweet synchronicity that the newest winner is being directed by that MetroStar contest’s premiere year’s second-place winner. That’s Stearns Matthews (photo, below), sitting at the nightclub preview at the cocktail table next to me, with his spouse, the only other observers. OK, there
were no cocktail tables—and no cocktails, but it did kind of feel like the real show, with the possible exception of that, and the presence of fluorescent lighting, the lack of a raised stage, nobody to ask if we had a reservation. And usually, in a real cabaret performance, the director doesn’t read his notes out loud right after the last song (although I am sure some have been tempted). These reality checks helped us remember that it was truly and merely a sort of dress rehearsal, because, with a couple of minor things, the voyage into Unchartered waters was smooth sailing. She’s definitely ready. Unlike many I’ve seen with early-career cabaret acts, visible nervousness or an “apologetic” manner are not part of the picture. Polish and poise are part of the picture.
Her dream-of-a-match pianist/music director is that very able, quite versatile Jeff Cubeta (photo, below), whom she got to know in MetroStar rounds. It was great to watch him 
work close-up at the preview, graceful on the keys, occasionally adding some harmony vocals, attractively. It was sweet heaven, even though I had to imagine the other two musicians (they are drummer Robin MacMillan and acoustic/electric bassist /guitaristBrian Ward, who is like a brother to her). OK, here’s that interest of full disclosure again—and it is of interest—he IS her brother. Unchartered is named for the Sara Bareilles song, early arrival in the set to help lay out the theme of taking chances and moving on to new places, all the while acknowledging fears and failures as part of life. Be brave. I think this singer is. And she, increasingly so, will be. She comes off as an appealingly human mix of full-steam-ahead confidence and underlying vulnerability. Singing pop, she’s a Tootsie Roll pop with that hard outer shell hiding (at first) that soft, meltable center. But her own comfort food of choice is 
neither that nor any post-Valentine’s Day candy, but a special thrill on the grill that brings some welcome humor to a fairly earnest set when she makes that ”it” instead of “who” the object of her affection when crooning an old Cole Porter favorite, with spoken punny asides.
Performance-wise, wise Emily Ellet is no neophyte; she’s sung on the high seas on a cruise ship, in the great cold outdoors as a member of the New York Holiday Choristers, at benefits, at a senior center, in musical theatre, and has done 
her own concert show of “Princess” stories: Shining, Shimmering, Splendid. But it was “a whole new world” competing against 50 other entrants in a New York City weekly vocal competition with judges giving feedback while one remains on stage in the spotlight, as those judges award points as does the audiences. To her credit, when this gal who once lived by the mountains of Colorado, didn’t scale the heights in the contest the first time in 2016, she went back to try, try, again last summer and went home with the title. And she’ll climb ev’ry mountain ‘til she finds her dream (“The Climb” is actually the number that she begins with, appropriately) . The gloriously smooth and rich musical theatre voice reaches pretty high on its own. What heights of music and emotion you have in store when it takes flight on ”Flight,” the challengingly rangy (as in mountain range) piece of material by Craig Carnelia (with whom she’s studied). I often wince when I know someone is going to take on that Olympic event, but by the time she gets to that, she’s already proven she’s got the chops, the goods, the smarts, the heart—and I relished with anticipation what turned out to be a home run, with each inning of the long exercise of exquisite execution. Speaking of the Olympics— underway, as Miss Ellet’s rehearsals were underway, by coincidence or design— a pop hit tied to the games in another year is in the song stack, and she does “Rise” to the occasion to score high points with that, too.
But, if you please, she’s at ease and able to seize the moment in varied styles, sounding as at home with pop or standards or power ballads as she felt at home–she says happily in her patter—upon moving to Manhattan. This particular Manhattan night of our private personal preview pow of a pow-wow, we were all a little soggy as New York City was being treated to some quickly falling evening snow. Emily’s sung weather report, however, was “Soon It’s Gonna Rain” from the score to the classic The Fantasticks. One could argue that her personal warmth brought up the temperature to turn the white flakes to watery precipitation. But, who cares? It was, remember, just a rehearsal. Actually, one of the most dazzling moments in the act is when she combines her rather straightforward treatment of this number with a full-scale musical reinvention. She takes an old disco warhorse that you wouldn’t believe could be transformed into a horse of a different color and suddenly it’s something else entirely. As savvy and satisfying as that is, it’s topped by mining meaning and, yes, more magic, from an older soft-rock hit from 1969, now deeper and moving when it’s moving into new first-hand summation of perspective and experience, 
first-person catharsis, even though the lyric is sung unchanged in its third-person form of storytelling. I don’t want to ruin the surprises you should experience for yourself by naming either golden oldie burnished newly shining.
You may have to read between the lines of the lyrics to get the stories of her life (not too much is spilled in autobiographical patter, a cabaret choice she eschews). But this lady, whose day job has been to use her voice for speaking other people’s stories as a prolific audio books recording artist, clearly has some stories of her own. They just happen to have been written by lyricists who were, shall we say, on the same page.
Performances are at Don’t Tell Mama, 343 West 46 Street, on February 22, 23 and 24 at 7 PM, and on February 25 at 4 PM. There is a $20 cover and a 2-drink minimum (cash only). $5 discount for MAC members. Reservations can be made by calling 212.757.0788 after 4 PM or any old time online: www.donttellmamanyc.com/shows.
For more information about the performer, including performance videos, visit her website at www.emilyellet.com.
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