Mahiki

A Classic Venue Holding Timeless Memories

It's a funny thing, memory. It wraps itself around the past like tendrils of a revered vine, convincing us that what we once stood on was solid terra firma rather than precarious mud – which is the reality in question at the latest offering purportedly affiliated with what used to be Mahiki's erst to beat out a relentless samba rhythm of dance-floor delight. Instead, it has now sauntered into an apparent quagmire of forgettable tunes and less enviable conditions that have some patrons groaning more than harmonizing. £30 gains you entrance to this jamboree, billing itself as an exuberant echo of Henley's hedonistic halls of yore, yet many might wonder whether traversing such sludge will feel much like a luxury escapade or rather an extended satirical slapstick routine.

Quirky character seeps from every facet: colossal queues snake their ways around the entrance, harboring intrepid explorers awaiting temperamental door staff who juggle rudeness with somehow being oddly compelling gatekeepers to this paradoxical paradise. There's a poignant nostalgia for the high times, those spirited symphonies of 2007 and ’08 where laughter seemed unending and adventures were boundless, leaving one to ponder just how far down this muddy decline toddled. Yet a hunch suggests that identifying its missteps may be akin to dissecting the comedy of life's whims. It's all part of the sport—bumpy ride, raw-edged, lacking polish perhaps—but in laughter spun from hardy tales shared over alleged disasters, some embers of geniality enough to warm us might linger. — Penelope Savory