“Life is disappointing, yah?” asks the Master of Ceremonies at the beginning of the dark, sexy musical Cabaret. “Here, life is beautiful.”

From start to finish of Mason Street Warehouse’s 13th season opener, the Kit Kat club is the place to be. It’s beautiful, yes, also seedy, funny, heartbreaking, and terrifying.

It’s 1931 in Berlin, sexual liberation is the norm in this counter culture, money is scarce, and the Nazi Party has just begun to gain traction. There’s a whiff of fear in the air, but it hasn’t yet fully taken hold.

The Kit Kat Club puts on shows within this show visually represented by a false proscenium and a live orchestra upstage left. As the plot and subplots unfold, scene changes happen with simple furniture brought on and offstage, aided by effective changes in lighting effects.

The audience is in good hands here, guided by the exceptional Christopher Behmke as Emcee. He seems to take a cue from Alan Cumming and the 1993 West End revival of Cabaret (and the recent NYC revival) in all his animated, hyper sexualized, glittery red nippled glory. Behmke is the best kind of star in this show, fully embodying the character, singing and dancing like it’s what he was born to do, taking control of the audience’s experience, at times interacting with them directly, and alternately shining in the spotlight and supporting the ensemble in the shadows. His presence is enormous and charming. He is both light and dark, and the way his character evolves–both physically and emotionally–is chilling, and paves the way for every other seismic shift in the show.

He also leads the Kit Kat Girls, six stunning burlesque performers, each unique and fully realized. They look fantastic in Darlene K. Veenstra’s authentic period costumes, composed largely of racy lingerie and fabulously interesting shoes. And Director Kurt Stamm’s Fosse-esque choreography also looks good on them as they shake their money makers, smack booties, splay legs, and straddle chairs. Laurie Elizabeth Gardner and Payton Reilly give standout and particularly acrobatic performances.

Stamm’s choreography is most powerful in big ensemble numbers that make use of line formations and high kicks. Anytime Behmke and the Kit Kat Girls are on stage together is dazzling; however, the militaristic movements combined with Jennifer Kules’ stunning lighting creates a surreal and scary spectacle at the end of Act I on which the rest of this deeply affecting show hinges.

The inevitably horrifying turn that history is about to take is quietly mirrored in the love found and then lost because of outside forces beyond the lovers’ control. Mary Robin Roth and Tim Ewing are wonderful together as lovers who find each other late in life. Their arc of joy and desperation is heartbreaking, and her enormous voice and belting is contrasted nicely by his quiet but powerful lyricism.

Stacey Harris gives a deeply moving performance as Sally Bowles, a scrappy Cabaret performer who falls for an earnest and sexually ambiguous American writer played by Joe Somodi, who utterly looks and sounds the part but otherwise gives Harris little to play off. This makes her achievements on stage all the more impressive. Her complex and devastating character arc parallels the Emcee’s, and she manages to embody both pain and promise with every movement and every note. She seems to glide with every step, and her rendition of “Maybe This Time” and “Cabaret” hold incredible layers of meaning.

Thanks to terrific performances and an overall stellar production, unlike life, this Cabaret is anything but disappointing—and it is, indeed, beautiful.