Rihanna live at the O2

She’s off. Dressed in a modest, matronly floor-length black gown, our Barbadian warrior is belting out the painful lament ‘Russian Roulette’ from a rapidly rising platform. At the song’s climax, her dress illuminates a pulsating red, as if to emote the veins tensing and writhing inside her body. Suddenly, I feel very under-dressed. Next, two oversized prop machine guns are lowered to either side of Rihanna’s podium, pumping hundreds of invisible bullets into the diva’s chest. Phew. One tune down, 27 to go.
As expected, the remainder of the show is filled with equally perplexing jaw-drop moments, the countless bells and whistles leaving me feeling like a sugared-up toddler on a Saturday morning. Why is that test dummy break-dancing? Is that a video camera on that Power Ranger’s shoulder? Is it really safe to do The Sprinkler in a military pickelhaube? God only knows how the real kids are feeling.
Rihanna’s full catalogue of sultry r’n’b hits is on show, from 2006’s vibey ‘S.O.S.’ to a spooked up ‘Disturbia’ (complete with stilt monsters presumably borrowed from Resident Evil 6) to current radio favourite ‘Rude Boy’, but our RiRi obviously likes a good guitar lick too, having drafted in Nuno Bettencourt of ‘90s rock outfit Extreme to provide blistering solo after blistering solo. For all the feigned combat and gimp play on show, our fierce front-woman’s vocals are religiously on point, and downright compelling too, especially on little-known ballad ‘Fire Bomb’.
OK, so she looks like a Jetson in most of her costumes; she uses her microphone to simulate a penis more than once; and yes, the metaphors are rather vulgarly brandished in our faces (something about things that don’t kill you making you stronger – but for a female pop star to choose S&M-inspired couture over sequinned bikinis, and a hot pink army tank over a carnation-swathed swing chair, is a refreshing change of pace. The 22-year-old’s edgy set-up is one I’ll definitely look forward to seeing again, having been treated to one too many gilded cages and pillow fights by other femmes not so fatales in this very venue.
Jest all you want, haters, but Rihanna deserves props for the spectacle. She delivered all the key components of a good live show tonight, whether it be held in The 02 or The Mercantile: confident, unwavering vocals, star quality and absolutely no synchronised dancing.