So it is with this, their final touring show before a brief hiatus to focus on their daughter's first school days. It isn't so much a linear tribute, as celebration of composers, singers, songwriters and choreographers. It's a little iconoclastic at times, but always fun and frothy. There's no subtext here, just sheer entertainment, with a few zingers thrown in for good measure.

Doug Cairns' gorgeous, jazz club style set—which could have come straight from a Blue Note album sleeve—is where the couple emerge from, to general crowd hysteria. They're surfing on  a wave of bonhomie, such is the widespread affection for the couple. The first pas de deux to “Night and Day” is a butter-smooth tangle of limbs, wherein Aljaž almost drapes Janette around him like a mink stole. It beautifully invokes Hollywood melodrama and sets the scene for dancing that never feels like pastiche.

Essentially, tonight's divertissements and routines are set out in little chapters, providing insights into different decades of inspiration for the duo. Tom Seale's Big Band are impressive, sweeping through genres, but for me singer Jill Marie Cooper's vocals somewhat overpowers much of the material. Less can be more. Still, she has a powerful range.

Four younger dancers provide a small superb team, with props going to pocket rocket Kiera Brunton, whose exquisite vaudeville tap routines fuse eloquently with slinky Latin phrasing. Squint and she could be a Funny Face era Audrey Hepburn. She's magnetic.

As for the dynamic couple, they are at their most breathtakingly beautiful when performing ballroom. Manrara also has a beautiful singing voice, performing a fabulous “Too Darn Hot.” This is contrasted with Škorjanec's game attempt at a solo chanson. As he starts “They Can't Take That Away From Me,” apparently, they can—the microphone is briefly whisked away. Arf! 

My absolute standout moment is the tip of the tilted fedora to Kander and Ebb and Bob Fosse. Manrara unleashes her inner Sally Bowles, with a lightning “Cabaret” homage, full of high kicks and struts. One inspired piece of choreography inverts the “Two Ladies” routine with Manrara sandwiched between two male dancers, moving as one unit. Poor gal, my heart breaks for her! It's very cheeky, and more than  a little risqué. Her cover of “Mein Herr” is very sassy, and on point. I'm sure Liza would approve.